


Signs Of The Skrill

by sleebyama



Series: The Signs Series [1]
Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Trauma, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Substance Abuse, period-typical violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2020-05-31 05:23:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19419331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleebyama/pseuds/sleebyama
Summary: When Dagur had escaped from Outcast Island and had stolen Trader Johann’s boat, when he had returned to the remaining warriors of his Armada and had been prepared to retake command, he didn’t expect to see him still remaining, carefully watching over Savage with his battle axe drawn, always ready for a fight.+ Rewrite of the Signs Seriesas of 30/06/2019





	1. the lonely are never alone

**Author's Note:**

> timeline notes: Sverri was born before Heather was taken and died when he was about 9 months old. I headcanon Heather to be younger than the other riders because in her flashback when she’s holding her dad’s hands, Dagur looks/sounds like he’s around 10 maybe 12 and realistically she could be between 4 - 6? I headcanon that she was also taken when she was about four or five. Enough time for her to understand who her parents were but not enough to remember much about them. 
> 
> Heather was taken when she was 5, Dagur was 12 about to turn 13, Bragi was 15 and soon after had to kill his father.  
> Current timeline; Dagur is 21 about to turn 22, Heather is 15. Bragi is 24

When Dagur had escaped from Outcast Island and had stolen Trader Johann’s boat, when he had returned to the remaining warriors of his Armada and had been prepared to retake command, he didn’t expect to see him still remaining, carefully watching over Savage with his axe drawn, always ready for a fight.

Bragi had been around since they were children training to take their respectful places in their tribe. Bragi’s father was their War Chief and Dagur’s father was Chief, their friendship, inevitable. Bragi was the one person Dagur humoured because Bragi would look him in the eye, not to mention Bragi was willing to rub it in his face when he was better than Dagur at… well everything.

Over the three years he’d spent imprisoned at Outcast Island, Bragi had somehow found a way to send him messages through rogue traders or informants to keep him informed. It was entirely the reason he had been broken out from Outcast Island in the first place.

Bragi welcomed him back with open arms, quite literally. His body slammed into Dagur’s with full force, wrapping his arms around him tightly as he buried his face into his shoulder with a sigh of relief. Tension faded from Bragi’s body as he relaxed. Dagur’s arms came up to wrap around Bragi’s shoulders reflexively and to press against his back with open palms, his fingers played over Bragi’s armour, firmly and grounding. 

“Welcome back Dagur.” He breathed when he finally pulled away from him, looking up at him with bright, hopeful eyes, before he broke out into a smile and ran his fingers over the tattoos across his eyes. The tattoos had faded since he first got them at sixteen, from their strong vibrant blue to a soft shade instead, faded from the wind whipping salt into his face.

Dagur raised his hand to wrap around Bragi’s wrist, pulling it away from his face before he held it to his chest. His fingers tightened around Bragi’s bracer, digits pressing into the leather and metal.

“Bragi… it’s been a while.” Dagur murmured cheekily while looking him in the eye. His face snapped to the side as Bragi slapped him with his free hand. Some of the men on their ship gasped, others, who knew Bragi and their friendship just laughed and went back to their duties, watching with familiarity out of the corners of their eyes. 

“Three years Dagur!” Bragi growled lowly, tugging his wrist away with a slightly petulant tone in his voice. “Three years of leading your armada and that’s all you have to say to me!” 

“Bragi, I know you’re upset.” Dagur tried to say calmly, before he was poked in the chest by Bragi’s pointer finger.

“I’m more than upset you- you bastard. Three years!” He shouted at him. Dagur lowered his gaze, slightly worried he’d well and truly upset Bragi. 

“It wasn’t that bad. And you got me out.” He retorted weakly, before he raised his arms in disbelief as Bragi turned away from him to bark orders at their men to man the ship. Before he could say anything else, the men complied and Bragi turned around and grabbed his arm, dragging him down below deck to the chief’s quarters. 

“Sit your ass down at that desk and shut your mouth Dagur!” Bragi barked, marching through the doorway and kicking it shut behind him. As soon as he reached the desk and sat in the chair, Bragi turned around to glare at him. Dagur met his stare with a slightly sheepish expression. “Three years, of reining in your men, our men. Rogue Berserkers and Outcasts, fixing Savages messes. Running your armada for you while Haggard has been trying to get rid of me, trying to take what we fought for when we were younger.” Bragi ranted while he started pacing across the floor. “Then you stopped replying to my messages and I thought they’d _killed_ you.” 

Dagur flinched at that, scrunching his shoulders up to his ears. Bragi clenched his fists, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously—a habit he never had the chance to break—before he stared dead straight into Dagur’s eyes. “I thought you were dead Dagur. I thought I lost my best friend.” 

Dagur stood from the chair at that, walking over to Bragi, lifting his hands from where they were clenched at his side. He slid his hands into Bragi’s, lifting them under his tunic to press them to his chest, directly over his heart.

“I’m still here, I still have a heartbeat Bragi.” He assured softly. Bragi shuffled closer, his hands still pressed to his chest. Dagur pulled him closer by his hands, before he slid his own down Bragi’s forearms and then down to his waist. Bragi rested his head on his shoulder. Dagur felt him relax against him and then nod into his shoulder, muttering a quiet string of curse words against it. 

“You’re not alone anymore Bragi. I’m back and everything will be fine.” Dagur said as he tighted his grip onto Bragi’s waist. 

Bragi pulled away from Dagur with his hands still pressed to his chest. Dagur caught the soft expression on his face for just a split second before it slipped away and his mouth turned up into a smile. Bragi poked at his chest. “Now change into some armour, I think we have some that fits.”

Dagur nodded and turned on his heel towards the chest in the room. Bragi backed out of the room to give Dagur some privacy, catching the sight of Dagur’s bare back as he pulled his shirt over his head, back muscles flexing as he raised and lowered his arms. When he turned around and walked back up onto the upper deck of the ship, he noticed a few Outcasts staring at him and the stairs.

“What are you staring at?” He snarled, his hand immediately going to his belt for the axe he had on its ring. The Outcasts backed away nervously before turning and minding their own businesses. “Good.” He spat, before moving to the front of the ship and staring over at the horizon and the rolling waves. As the sun rose over the horizon, Bragi rested his elbows against the edge of the familiar sound of Dagur yelling, in the high pitched tone that he missed over the last three years. 

Dagur’s armour clinked together as he walked up behind him. A well-muscled arm wrapped around his shoulders as he leaned his other arm against the edge of the rail, mimicking Bragi’s pose.

“I’ve changed our course to the ship graveyard.” Dagur told him, turning his head to give him a knowing look.

“You’re going after Hiccup, so nothing’s changed in the last three years.” Bragi gave a strained chuckle as he stepped away from Dagur. Savage approached the both of them just as he did so.

“Bragi it’ll be alright.” Dagur turned right as Dagur interrupted them with an update. Dagur’s jaw clenched as he considered Savage’s words, before he turned back to Bragi with a frown. Dagur leaned in and pressed his chin to Bragi’s temple as he tilted his head to listen. “Looks like our trip to the graveyard is postponed until later this afternoon. Which means we have time to talk tactic, I want you sitting in on this meeting with me.” 

“Gladly Dagur.” Bragi said smugly as he returned the glare that Savage was giving him from over Dagur’s shoulder. Savage had disapproved every single one of Bragi’s decisions since Dagur was imprisoned on Outcast island. Bragi had volunteered twice to break Dagur out himself, cursing the incompetence of the fools that Savage had sent in and failed, but most of their men were against the notion of sending him in. Despite their mutual hatred of each other however, Savage had also reminded Bragi both times, that if Dagur trusted anyone to lead his Armada, it would have to be him.

So he never went, and Dagur never came back.

Until now.

* * *

Dagur can’t remember when Bragi hasn’t been around him while they were talking tactics. Really he can’t remember not having Bragi around. Tactical meetings when they were younger had always been Bragi’s favourite part of being next in line to be War Chief, honestly, Dagur was glad for it. Since he didn’t really like planning stealth missions—he preferred battle plans and long raids—he left their tactics mostly to Bragi once they took over the tribe.

They decided to have the meeting on deck, on the far end of the ship where the others couldn’t hear them without obviously eavesdropping. Dagur wanted Bragi to be on their ship when they reached the graveyards. Three years, and his need to show Bragi off while making Hiccup kiss his boots hadn’t dissipated. The tactics should have been simple. Bragi was his second, his back up, so why in Hel’s name was Savage suggesting that he’d _stay behind?_ Dagur pursed his lips, fitting his fingertips together and tapping them thoughtfully against each other.

“We should have a backup plan though Dagur. In case this one doesn’t work..” Bragi’s eyes flitted over towards him for a split second. “...I agree with him Dagur.” Dagur’s fingers stopped tapping against each other as he glanced between them. Bragi was agreeing with Savage, despite their mutual hatred of each other?

Dagur puffed out his chest like a robin, before he narrowed his eyes at Bragi. “And why are you agreeing with him?” He questioned. Bragi huffed, albeit was hesitant as his shoulders scrunched up. 

“Because sometimes…” Bragi started. “Hiccup tends to outsmart your plans, and he has a _Night Fury_ Dagur.” And Bragi had a point. Still, Dagur pouted, eyes flitting back and forth between them before he stopped on Bragi.

“Then what’s the new plan?” Bragi flicked his eyes down to the wooden deck before he answered, sounding surer than he did a moment before.

“We infiltrate the Dragon Riders and Berk from within. Disable their defences, strike them when they’re relaxed and unable to prepare their defences.” Bragi explained with a low tone.

“I like it… I like it.” Dagur murmured thoughtfully. “But how are we going to do that? Stoick the Vast isn’t just going to let me onto Berk after what I’ve done.”

“I’m going.” Bragi said firmly. “When you go to the graveyard… Savage and the others will take away my battleaxe. Put fake chains on me and call me a traitor. If plans go south, throw me overboard. Hiccup’s a bleeding heart, has been since we were kids Dagur, I’ll get Hiccup and the other Dragon Riders to rescue me so I can spy on them and offer them false information.”

Bragi’s voice had grown firmer during the explanation, but inside, Dagur felt sick. Putting Bragi in danger? Sending Bragi undercover into Berk when he was just as guilty of the same crimes Dagur was imprisoned for? Dagur paused, brow furrowed as he shifted his weight on his feet while thinking over the plan. Sending Bragi in without his battle axe, unarmed. His eyes flicked over to Bragi, who was now chewing on his bottom lip, the only sign he was even the slightest bit worried. It would mean they’d be separated again.

“What about the Night Fury, and the other dragons?” Dagur asked finally. Surely the dragons would be able to tell. 

“I’ll be fine Dagur, I can lie my way out of pretty much anything remember?” Bragi said with a soothing tone. And Bragi could, he’d done it all throughout the both of them growing up. “Besides, if the dragons are suspicious, I’ll blame it on smelling like you.” That got a laugh out of him.

“Okay then, but we need a way from you to get out of Berk if your cover is blown.” He tacked on once he stopped chuckling. The look he got was pure Bragi, offended at the slightest idea that his cover would be blown. Bragi’s lips pressed into a thin line and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Bragi we need a back up plan for your plan.”

“We really don’t.” Bragi retorted. “It’s what I do Dagur. I can get myself out of Berk just fine if something goes wrong.” 

“You aren’t listening to me Bragi.” Bragi scrunched his nose up in displeasure. Dagur huffed. “What’s the point of being my second in command if you won’t even listen.” He snarled, irritated. Bragi responded with his own snarl, his lips curling back over his teeth before he lowered his head in a submissive gesture.

“You normally have plans that work.” Dagur admitted to placate him. “So I’m trusting you on this, but I want you to have a weapon… Hiccup may be too trusting but his girlfriend isn’t.” Astrid may have proved to be his biggest underestimate when he’d tried to take on Berk. She was tougher than iron, and with her backing Hiccup kept his head better than he should have. Dagur met Bragi’s eyes. “You won’t mess this up, you won’t give anything away and you _won’t_ touch Hiccup.”

“Like I’d want to anyway!” Bragi retorted, crossing his arms over his chest and hugging them close to his body. His hand struck out to his Bragi’s shoulder instinctively. He kicked back, rolling his eyes with a familiarity that made the tension in his shoulders slip away.

“I’m still the chief.” His voice sounded shaky, even to himself. “You still have to listen to me.” He managed to harden his voice on the last note while sending a glare to Bragi.” His shin throbbed where Bragi kicked him.

Three years ago, he wouldn’t have bothered to strike out at him when he didn’t listen. While he was still scrawny and an inch shorter than Bragi. Bragi seemed to not like it either, with the way his eyes were flicking on and off of his frame, like he was assessing something.

“You’re forgetting that I’m older than you.” Bragi finally snarled, like he’d been thinking about what to say. “You’ve forgotten that I’ve been fighting by your side, for you since you were nine Dagur! Your threats don’t scare me Dagur, and neither do you!”

Savaged looked like he was about to back away from the both of them and the scene they were causing on deck since he was trapped with the both of them flanking his sides. 

“Just do what you need to do.” Dagur waved his hand carelessly, but before he could walk away, Bragi’s hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist.

“There’s another part of the plan we haven’t discussed.” Bragi tacked on, not meeting Dagur’s eyes. “You have to hurt me.” 

Dagur paused, head cocking to the side with curiosity and concern.

“You need to hurt me.” Bragi repeated slowly.

“Why do I need to do that.” Dagur’s eyebrows arched high. 

“The Hooligan Tribe thinks you’re crazy Dagur. They hate you. If I’m going to convince them that you thought I was a traitor, I need to look the part.” 

Dagur felt his insides twist. Nausea welled up in him as he scanned Bragi’s face before he shook his head. “Come up with a different story… I’m not hurting you.” 

Bragi huffed, shaking his head.

“Just do it Dagur, you’re not going to do any lasting damage to me. Just leave a few marks, choke me, something to make it look like you’ve actually been able to hurt me!” 

“Don’t push me Bragi.” Dagur warned, taking an aggressive step forward.

Bragi seemed to muse over the warning, before he poked his tongue out childishly to antagonize him. It was something he’d done a million times before, and it always worked. Dagur launched himself forward at him, knocking them both over despite the obvious stance he’d fallen into to brace against him. Bragi’s back hit the wooden deck with a crash and a concerning crack. His battle axe skittered across the deck as Dagur slammed his knees into his ribs.

Both of Dagur’s hand came to wrap around his throat, squeezing painfully tight. Bragi gave a few halfhearted wriggles before he relaxed, body going limp against the wooden deck as he felt his lungs protest at Dagur crushing his hands against his windpipe. Dagur felt Bragi’s throat flex underneath his hands. Dagur pushed down on Bragi’s chest with his knees, until he started to wheeze underneath him. Their eyes meet, green latching onto blue. Dagur’s eyes widened and he let go of Bragi’s throat with a small gasp. He left Bragi on the deck, standing and dusting himself off before he stormed down below deck, leaving Bragi to wheeze while watching his retreating back.

Bragi knew the marks would stick, as he lifted his hand to hover over his throat. They’d be bruised by the time their plan would begin. His lungs protested as he set up, drinking in air as a Berserker helped him up carefully.

“Are you alright?” He asked. Bragi nodded, coughing as he lifted his head to eye the stairs. 

“It needed to be done Jokul. Nothing I can’t handle.” His voice was hoarse but he waved Jokul off and steadied himself. He coughed as he made his way down to the chief’s quarters, shrugging off Jokul’s extended hand and the others on the ship. 

Dagur may have had the title of Deranged as they grew up, but he wasn’t as bloodthirsty as everyone thought he was. He needed to reassure Dagur that he was fine, because knowing his best friend, Dagur was about to beat himself up for this.

Bragi didn’t knock on the closed door to the chief’s quarters, pushing it open with his right hand as his left hovered over his ribs. Dagur had his back to the door, his arms were gripping the edge of the desk in the room, his arms and back tense. Even from the doorway, Bragi could see that his blunt nails were digging into the grain of the wood, leaving shallow crescent shaped indents as he stared at the wall in front of him.

“Dagur.” He muttered from the doorway, making his presence known. He walked over to stand next to him, his eyes dropping onto Dagur’s trembling hands as he dug his nails further into the wood. “ Dagur I’m okay.” Bragi reached out to touch his hand gently.

“Don’t touch me!” Dagur snapped, jerking his hand away the moment his fingers brushed against it.

“Wait, Dagur.” He grabbed Dagur’s wrist, tugging him back. Bragi curled his fingers tighter around his wrist, gazing up at him. Dagur stared back, his face twisted into anger and fear, eyes glinting from the fires that lit up the cabin.

“You didn’t fight back.” Dagur murmured while scanning his face. One of Dagur’s hands reached up to touch his cheek, his large palm pressing over Bragi’s cheek. Bragi leaned into the touch, eyelashes fluttering before Dagur’s hand moved down to hover over his throat, fitting his hands over the prints of his fingers. “You just lay there and took it.” 

Bragi’s throat was warm from the blood flushing his skin. It was heated under his palm, so much so that Dagur could feel a slight throb as his palm grazed Bragi’s throat. If he didn’t stop, Bragi would be losing that heat up on deck, lifeless. 

“You had to do it Dagur.” Bragi said softly. “It was the only way to make it real.” Dagur’s brow furrowed, a dark expression sliding over his face. 

“I could have killed you.” Dagur said, his voice filled with concern and confusion. “I’d have killed you if…” He stared at his hands like he didn’t believe they were a part of him. “If I didn’t look at you! Thor!” His hands dropped from Bragi’s neck like they had been burned. 

Dagur pulled away from Bragi hastily, dropping his hands as he tried to turn away. Bragi lurched forward, grabbing onto his wrist, holding onto him. “ Dagur hey!” The Berserker Chief wasn’t listening, as he began to breathe heavily, shaking his head, trying and failing to tug his wrist from Bragi’s grip. 

Bragi hesitated, before he twisted the wrist he had in his grip and hooked his ankle around Dagur’s, bringing his friend to the ground before he wrestled him onto his back. Bragi sat on his stomach, crossing his arms over his head as Dagur bucked and struggled beneath him.

“Dagur! Listen to me.” Bragi shouted, wincing when Dagur lashed out and freed one of his hands, striking him in the chest.

Dagur stilled, tense on his back, chest rising and falling as he painted harshly. He stared up at Bragi with wide eyes. Bragi sighed as his head hung forward. “Damn you Dagur.” He whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m fine… I was dealt the same from my father, you know this. I can handle you, I’m alright…” Dagur’s breathing was softening, stabilizing as Bragi continued. “I’m fine… I’m fine and I’m here and _you can’t hurt me._ ” 

Brgi opened his eyes and the look in Dagur’s green ones when he met them was heartbreaking. Dagur locked eyes with him for a second before the tension bled out of his shoulders and his eyes fluttered shut. Bragi let go of his wrists and Dagur brought them to Bragi’s sides, mindful of his ribs.

“I can’t- can’t kill you.” He muttered. “I’d never, can’t do it. Can’t hurt you like he did.” Bragi hushed him by squeezing his sides gently with his knees. 

“Look at me.” Bragi ordered softly. “Look at me Dagur.” He opened his eyes. “I’m fine, see.” Bragi motioned to himself. Dagur nodded, eyes still trained onto his throat despite the nod. Bragi relaxed, slumping forward as he instead placed his hands onto Dagur’s chest. 

Dagur ran his hands up Bragi’s sides, before he tangled his fingers into the loose hairs at the nape of his neck. “You’re hurt because of me Bragi. I did that to you.” 

“Oh my Thor, Dagur.” Bragi sighed with a hint of exasperation before he ducked his head down and pressed his lips to Dagur’s, shutting him up effectively. Dagur reared forward, teeth nipping at Bragi’s bottom lip, kissing back with the same enthusiasm. Dagur used the grip on his hips to drag them flush together. Bragi let out a soft moan when he tugged on the length of his braid. Dagur pulled away, eyes wide and pupils dilated as he stared at Bragi, breathing heavily.

“Bragi…” He breathed, lips parted slightly. 

“Been wanting to do that for fucking years.” Bragi complained. “Haven’t been able to since you’d gone and left Haggard in charge.” A crimson flush spread to the tip of his ears as Bragi wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Dagur chuckled and leaned forward to press a kiss to Bragi’s jaw.

“You’re still mine you got that.” He murmured into Bragi’s ear.

Bragi let out a genuine laugh, dropping his head onto Dagur’s shoulder before he lifted it back up to look Dagur in the eyes. “I laid a claim on you since we were five Dagur, you’re a little late.” He smirked.

They both laughed, the shared memory passing between them. Dagur sat up, bringing Bragi with him before he cupped Bragi’s face with both of his hands, leaning in to steal another kiss. 

  


* * *

They spent the journey to the Ship Graveyard in each others laps, reminiscing, just talking. Bragi had brushed his hair back, admiring Dagur’s new mohawk while Dagur rebraided Bragi’s hair. It was a process, to relearn each other. Dagur had gone from a scrawny teenager. Bragi was mouthy, stronger, older. They went from crazy teenagers trying to fill boots too big for them, to being in their mid twenties and free.

They arrived at the graveyard just as the sun was beginning to go past the horizon. Dagur diverted the armada as to not arouse any suspicion and they sailed in on a single boat. It took Dagur a while to release Bragi from his arms but eventually Bragi was stripped of his armour and his hands were bound behind his back. His tattoos and tribal scarring were on display and to Dagur, he still looked like every bit of the Berserker War Chief he was.

He still had a Dagur hidden inside his belt, but other than that, the only thing of value he had on his person was his belt, emblazoned with the Berserker crest, and his life. Dagur had spent a good ten minutes with Bragi’s face in his hand, concerned and needing reassurance. 

Dagur easily caught all the Dragon Riders but Hiccup, their inexperience making easy to lure them all in a trap. Dagur had Bragi waiting next to Jokul and another Berserker, waiting on the deck of the _Reaper_ for Hiccup to arrive. At first the riders were too busy antagonizing Dagur and trying to escape to notice him, but then Astrid caught sight of him. Her eyes widened almost comically as she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. 

“Bragi?” Astrid gasped, her eyes scanned his body, stopping on his throat. 

Bragi didn’t respond, instead he tugged at his chains and rattled them, before shooting a glare over in Dagur’s direction without any real heat behind it. Before Astrid and the other riders could make a comment about him, Hiccup popped out from the hull of the ship, carrying a cylindrical object in one hand while his Night Fury crawled out with him. 

“Hiccup! We’re sorry! He got the drop on us while we were searching-” Astrid tried calling out. Dagur interrupted them smoothly. Dagur smiled at Hiccup with a dangerous grin. Hiccup glanced between Dagur and his friends trapped in the cage, before they stopped on Bragi in his chains.

“Bragi, hey… it’s been…” Hiccup trailed off with a choked laugh when he noticed the bruise around Bragi’s neck and the chains around his ankles and wrists. “What’s going on? What did he do to you?” Hiccup asked defensively. It made Bragi chuckle internally. Hiccup was always so empathetic. Dagur shot Bragi a silent glance from where he stood, slightly annoyed that Hiccup ignored him.

“Come on brother, no time for games. I need whatever you’re hiding behind that back of yours.” Dagur crooned with a smug tone. “Let me get on with business and then I can throw this traitor to the eels.” Dagur tacked on. Bragi flinched at the pure venom in his voice. It sounded so real. Dagur waved his hands around erratically before he gestured over to Bragi while he fake struggled against the outcasts.

Bragi couldn’t help but feel slightly cowed. Dagur said the words with so much conviction and determination that he felt a wave of nausea hit him. Bragi shoved Jokul off of him, lunging half heartedly at Dagur before he was reined back by Jokul.

Dagur only chuckled, masking his surprise before he turned back to focus on Hiccup. “What will you do Hiccup? Save the people? Or fight me and kill them all?” Dagur taunted. Bragi shouldn’t have felt afraid from Dagur’s threat, but his chest tightened all the same. 

“He’s not lying.” He called out, purposely trying to make his voice sound hoarse. “He doesn’t care whether his own men live or die against you Hiccup!” With a wave of his hand, Dagur had Jokul slamming an elbow into Bragi’s side, causing him to double over with a gasp. 

Hiccup’s eyes flicked back and forth between the three parties. Bragi looked exhausted as he clutched his arms around his sides. He felt sick to his stomach as he took in how hurt Bragi looked, how debased and humiliated it seemed to have his armours and weapons stripped from him.

Dagur held a hand out for the cylindrical trinket, while with the other, he motioned to the Reaper’s rail. The other Berserker and Jokul began to drag Bragi to the rail, although it was a bit hesitant. At first, he was calm, while he walked along with them, except as he reached the rail and caught a glimpse overboard, panic siezed him. There wasn’t a boat, or a safety net, just dark water churning with eels awaiting their next meal.

Dagur wasn’t playing a role anymore. Dagur was laughing hysterically as Hiccup gave up the trinket in his hand. The rest of their men began to abandon the Reaper, until it was just Bragi, Jokul and Dagur along with the Dragon Riders. Jokul kept a steady hand on him, until Dagur made an aborted noise and gesture.

His panic turned into fear as Jokul tipped him over the rail. He heard Astrid and Hiccup’s shouts, the sound of hissing eels, and then the rush of water as he slammed into the churning waves. Water rushed into his ears as he kicked against the chains, trying not to sink. They weighed him down, as the eels began to dip curiously around him, snatching at his clothes and the chains.

His lungs protested as he was dragged further into the murky depths, he couldn’t fight against the eels, nor could he kick himself up to the water’s surface. He saw out of the corner of his blackening vision, the Reaper being dragged down by the eels. He resigned himself really, as he got lower and lower. 

A light blasted past his face before he passed out, giving in to the sinking feeling in his chest. The last thing he felt was something gripping his arm. 

«

“Is he okay?” Astrid asked over the wind from Stormfly’s back. The Reaper had sunk, and after Hiccup had stolen the trinket he found on the Reaper back from Dagur, he’d helped Astrid fish Bragi out of the water. 

They’d all known Bragi from being in the same circles. He was the son of Cnut the Cruel, Oswald the Agreeable’s most trusted general. He was Dagur’s best friend and the centre piece of one of the biggest scandals in the Archipelago. While Dagur had tried to make Hiccups life miserable, Bragi had gotten along with him for a number of reasons. Bragi had a little brother who was a runt, and his father had beaten the baby to death when he was a few months old.

In retaliation, Bragi had challenged his father for his position as War Chief and had taken it, coming out of the challenge half-dead, with a broken arm and all sorts of injuries, leaning on Dagur’s shoulder and blood splattered on his face. 

Seeing Bragi now, slumped over Hookfang’s back behind Snotlout, soaked to the bone, stripped of his armour, debased and humiliated. It was nothing like the boy that ran in their circles when they were all children. The Monstrous Nightmare was the only dragon large enough to carry an unconscious passenger, the others flew close as a precaution. 

“I think Dagur did that to him.” Fishlegs mumbled, frightened by the dull tone of Bragis’ skin. “Did you see how easy it was for him to just throw Bragi overboard and they’ve been friends of years?” He questioned, frantic.

“Dagur called him a traitor remember? Maybe something happened when Dagur was on Outcast Island.” Hiccup replied rationally, eyes straying to Bragi. Bragi’s braid hung wetly over his shoulder even with the wind drying it.

* * *

Their arrival in Berk didn’t go unnoticed. Bragi had woken up halfway through the flight home. He sat up dizzily, panicking and had almost fallen off Hookfang if Snotlout hadn’t spun around to grab his arm and held him steady. Bragi looked green around the gills, leaning forward and doubling over to hug himself to Hookfang’s body. It might have been the flight, it might have been the fact that he was on a dragon, but he was relieved when they landed and Snotlout helped him off Hookfang.

Hiccup took a moment to let Bragi steady himself before he strode up to him and held out his hand. Bragi hesitated, shaky on his feet, before he took Hiccup’s hand and was pulled into a hug. 

“Thank you.” Bragi admitted in a whisper. When Hiccup pulled away, his eyes dropped down to the bruises ringed around his throat. 

“Did he do this?” Hiccup asked softly. Bragi ducked his gaze, Dagur’s tenderness from earlier barely lingering in the light of getting thrown overboard. Bragi nodded in reply. Hiccup opened his mouth to say something, before they were interrupted by an indignant yell from behind them.

Hiccup spun around, immediately raising his hands defensively as his father approached them. Bragi twisted around, eyes widening as he spotted Stoick and shrunk back. The Chief’s own eyes widened, before he strode straight up to him, pushing past Hiccup to drop his hands onto Bragi’s shoulders. 

“Bragi. It’s been years since I’ve seen you…” Stoick trailed off as he scanned Bragi’s frame. “And…. you’re not wearing any armour.” He raised his gaze back up to Bragi’s eyes. “Dagur did this, didn’t he!” Stoick raised his voice. “You were always too sane to be friends with that boy!” He growled loudly.

Bragi shook his head and raised a hand, pausing Stoick and his raised voice.  
“I goaded him into a fight Stoick. He’s strong, faster now. I underestimated me and he pinned me and he just…. He had his hands around my neck and he wouldn’t stop.” Bragi lowered his gaze and scrunched up his shoulders. The Dragon Riders gathered around him and Stoick, along with a few Vikings who were lingering nearby. “I was meeting with a rogue trader without his knowledge, he got mad about it and I challenged him.” Bragi forced himself to shake, continuing on with his story. “I’d met the trader when I was leading half off the Berserkers Armada outside the borders of the Archipelago, when I heard about Hiccup fighting the Red Death on a Night Fury. My duty didn’t allow me to return to Berserk when Oswald had disappeared, and when the treaty renewal rolled around, I was sent off to another mission by Haggard, Dagur’s great-uncle, outside the Archipelago, near the Warkens tribe. Haggard was trying to keep me away from Dagur, claiming I was a bad influence.” 

He paused to take a deep breath. “By the time I had come back to Berserk, we were falling into ruin, my half of the Armada had hardly any supplies at all, Dagur had sided with the Outcasts and Alvin the Treacherous. My half of the Armada refused to join the war. We wanted to keep the peace. I pleaded, pleaded with Dagur to stop but…” He trailed off, head dropping and shoulders slumped. “Haggard had too much of an influence by then.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him from attacking you Hiccup.” Bragi turned his head to look at Hiccup with pleading eyes. Hiccup himself looked heartbroken, as did the other riders along with the people of Berk who were listening in.

“It wasn’t your fault Bragi. You had good intentions.” 

“It is. The trader I was meeting, he gave me information on Dagurs whereabouts, he helped me plot and arrange for Dagur’s escape. I thought that if I could free him I would get my best friend back.” Bragi sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand theatrically. “But I goaded him and then I was pinned and all I could see was anger and hatred in his eyes. He didn’t let go until I stopped fighting back.” 

“Fishlegs, take him to Gothi to get something for the bruising, you can decide among yourselves who he can stay with.” Stoick ordered before he gave Bragi a soft, fatherly look. Growing up around the Berkians had been something different. It wasn’t like Berserk at all. He’d become a war chief young, had responsibility beaten into him the hard way. As Bragi was led away from the crowd of vikings that had gathered around the commotion, he felt Fishlegs’ eyes on him. 

“I’m not going to try anything.” Bragi said softly. Fishlegs head snapped up to look at him with frightened eyes. “Dagur had me thrown overboard, so unless you’re going to do the same to me, I won’t hurt you.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t stop Dagur from throwing you overboard.” Fishlegs apologized. The sincerity of it overwhelmed Bragi, making him stop in his tracks for a moment before he was urged along by Fishlegs.

“I’m not.” Bragi hissed, feeling a hint of hurt as he thought about it. “It would hurt less if he actually cared about me.” 

“Maybe he does, in hos own… weird way.” Fishlegs offered up nervously. Bragi rolled his eyes and shrugged in response. Right now this was all he had, infiltrate the Berkians, gain everyone's trust, and then go home to Dagur.

“So Gothi’s still around?” He changed the subject hastily. Gothi had been around since he was ten and Dagur was nine and the both of them were as thick as thieves as they visited Berk. There was a time Bragi remembered Gothi. He used to take Dagur to see her, interested in what a Volva of her skill could show them, really, they just got smacked on the head by her staff, especially when she caught them chewing Fire Root. That day had been the absolute worst, filled with silent lectures and bruises on their heads.

“She’s still going strong.” Fishlegs said excitedly. “She’s still learning new ways to treat us.” Bragi smiled at the enthusiasm before rubbing the back of his neck.

“I haven’t seen her since, I think before Oswald died, at the last treaty renewal before Dagur became chief.” Bragi answered, tilting his head to the side. Eventually, they climbed the stairs to Gothi’s hut, smiling at the old lady when Gothi waved her staff at him. 

Gothi welcomed them with a few waves of her staff before she pointed at Bragi and rattled the staff. She then turned around and rummaged through a chest before coming out with a leather cord with beads on them. It was old and worn, and it looked a bit too small with some of the braiding on the cord coming undone, but Bragi recognized it immediately.

“That…” Gothi nodded enthusiastically as he reached out to take it from her. “Dager gave that to me.” He slipped the necklace over his head, wiggling it a little as it caught on his braid before it finally settled against the bruises on his throat. Noticing them, Gothi frowned and shook her staff again, before she went back to rummage through her things and pull what looked like a balm from a chest.

The balm was sharp-smelling and tingled when he smeared it over his throat, liberally applying it to the bruises, before he capped it once more and turned back to Fishlegs. “What now?” He asked curiously.

Fishlegs looked thoughtful for a moment, before he nodded to himself and made a small “ah”. He led Bragi down to the Great Hall through Berk. The village had changed its layout again since the last time he’d been there. He didn’t recognize the alleyways or the houses, probably rebuilt from dragon attacks, before the beasts were tamed. 

The fact that it was getting well into the evening by the time they got there meant that dinner was getting into full swing in the hall. It seemed to be some event or another, where people were cheering and drinking and lining up for good food, roasted boar and what not. It smelled amazing, Bragi felt himself salivating as he eyed off a roast boar rotating on a spit. 

The only downside was the fact that Berserkers survived on very little, even more when they were chewing Fire Root. Any food would make him sick, nauseas and possibly incapacitate him. It pained him to turn away free food, especially since Berserk and their Armada was on limited rations.

It was all for the sake of the mission. He reminded himself. The mission and then he could return to Dagur. 

* * *

Bragi’s first night on Berk wasn’t so bad. The riders decided to rotate his living space between their houses, and he’d spent the first at the Jorgenson home. Snotlout was much more reserved in his house rather than with his friends. Bragi sat on the mattress in Snotlout’s room as he peeled off his boots before dropping them onto the floor. Snotlout’s room was covered in fine weaponry. Some of them were decorative, some weren’t, but what caught his attention wasn’t the axes and knives, between them there were books, strewn out and stacked in piles.

Bragi picked one up curiously, scanning the runes on the cover. _Snotlout’s Guide to Catching Dragons, Volume One_. It sounded interesting.

“Hey!” Snotlout yelped from across him. The book was snatched out of his hand quickly and it was tossed aside. “Don’t touch anything.”

“Sorry.” Bragi eyed the book where it landed. “I just didn’t expect to see something like that, you write?” 

Snotlout’s expression turned sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck while averting his gaze. “I mean yeah, kind of.” He shrugged. “My dad doesn’t really like it to much but if I don’t do it outside he doesn’t care.” 

Bragi nodded and let his arms fall by his side as he went back to his mattress, sitting back down on it. “Fair enough. It’s good to see you doing something you like though.” Bragi gestured towards the piles of books.

Snotlout’s cheeks pinked, and he turned away with a stutter in his words as he let out a small “thank you”. Bragi gave him a smile even though Snotlout couldn’t see it, before he swung his legs up onto the mattress and laid down with his arms under his head to stare at the ceiling.

It wasn’t long before Snotlout was snoring quietly in his bed that Bragi let out a breath of relief and let the tension slip from his shoulders. He sat up. The Jorgenson house was quiet, but Snotlout’s dragon was outside and Bragi wasn’t sure if the beast was awake. Bragi made one small round of the house, taking note of escape routes and trinkets of interest, avoiding Snotlout’s sleeping father in front of the fire downstairs, before he crept back into bed and pretended he was still asleep until morning came. 

* * *

  


Fishleg slept in the same bed as his dragon, which honestly, should not have been surprising. Bragi had his own room this time, opposite the younger boys room. The Ingerman family seemed to be well off by Berkian standards. They fed him a generous portion for dinner, which he squirreled away into the pocket of the vest that Fishlegs’ parents had given him. 

Eating a full meal still made Bragi nauseas. He had small leather pouch of Fire Root still tucked into his boot which he was chewing every second day. It kept him alert, kept him going for the mission. He nibbled on the bread when Fishlegs was too engrossed in writing dragon cards to notice him watching from across the corridor.

Later that night, when both Fishlegs and his Gronkle were asleep. Bragi crept barefoot into his room to sneak a look at the cards, memorizing the dragon statistics as best as he could before he left them where he found them, thanking Thor that Fishlegs left his information out without a care in the world.

  


* * *

If Bragi was being honest with himself, the Thorston twins were probably the people that gave him the most trouble. They were Berserkers on their grandmothers side. She had married into the Thorston family and died after her children were born. They were closer to his age than the other Riders, at seventeen rather than fifteen. It felt like betrayal for Bragi to try and spy on them. Not to mention the twins were always awake, either both at the same time or one after the other and it was impossible to sneak into their shared room.

However they lived on their own and what information he couldn’t steal, was _greatly_ compensated. Chalk marked the floor in one of the Thorston’s spare rooms. Tuffnut had shown Bragi the room in passing during a house tour before he was dragged to go hunting. 

That evening, Bragi slipped into the room while Tuffnut was muttering to himself and grinding up a set of herbs in a mortar.

“You know you’re using the wrong weed right?” Bragi finally said after a moment. Tuffnut’s head snapped up with alarming speed as he fumbled with the mortar before eventually shoving it behind his back. 

“What? No. What are you talking about?” Tuffnut drawled as he scrambled to push the mortar further behind him.

“Those aren’t the _recels_ you should be using. For a _seidhmadhr_ anyway. Or does Berk prefer _vitki_ since Seidhr isn’t common?” Bragi repeated. “I’m a Berserker remember, I’m guessing your grandmother or mother took to training you.” 

“Berserker?” Tuffnut repeated shakily before his eyes landed on the tribal markings across Bragi’s face. “You’re a _seidhmadhr_ too? Berserkers are okay with that?” 

Bragi nodded with a small sigh before he sat down onto the floor, opposite Tuffnut. The blonde had his shoulders up past his ears, looking skittish, like he wanted to run out of the room. Seidhr wasn’t commonly practiced on Berk if Bragi remembered correctly, at least not by men, not even by women, only a select few individuals trained for the craft. “Berk’s not like us right? It’s meant for women, for the _spákona_ , rather than men.”

Tuffnut nodded slowly, eyeing Bragi curiously. “We’re not. Berserkers aren’t. We’re just as important you know. Just as powerful.” 

“My sister practices too.” Tuffnut said in a whisper. “The others don’t know, we’re already the black sheep of the family. If word got out that we practiced, that I…” Tuffnut trailed off and shook his head, like the threat was too horrible to say. It probably was and Bragi didn’t push for a continuation.

“Because of your grandmother.” Bragi tacked on. Tuffnut gave a nod, before he hunched in on himself. “It doesn’t matter what they think about you. Odin, was a _seidhmadhr_ , I doubt none of Berk would give two sacks of shit if they knew their history well enough.” He added.

That got a laugh out of Tuffnut and the young blonde leaned forward, taking the mortar from behind his back to show it to Bragi. The herbs inside it were musehd into a green paste, ready to be smeared.

“You know I saw Ragnvald Rettilbeini practice this when I was a boy.” Bragi said conversationally as Tuffnut let him take the mortar from him. Tuffnut’s eyes widened in the corner of Bragi’s vision and he bit back a smile. Tuffnut shuffled closer with curiosity evident on his face. “Hmm, yeah, he conjured a storm with this mixture, lighting and winds whipping through our hair… Dagur and I…” Bragi trailed off for a moment before shaking his head. “We held onto each other through the entire thing, until he brought us into the eye of the storm. It was beautiful.” 

He ground the pestle into mortar once more before leaning in to sniff the mixture. “You’re missing some henbane and salt, you could substitute the henbane with blue oleander if you had it.” Bragi offered the items back to Tuffnut. “I’m assuming you’re not using this to summon a storm, so if it’s poison, henbane or oleander will do the trick. Maybe henbane if you don’t want to poison your dragons.” 

Tuffnut’s cheeks pinked, but he nodded and sprawled his long legs outwards before he pushed himself off the ground and walked over to a herb cabinet. Tuffnut barely glanced at the jars of herbs before he came back with salt and henbane.

“You’re well stocked.” Bragi complimented as his eyes scanned the shelves.

“We’ve been doing this for years.” Tuffnut replied as he kept his head down, grinding the salt and henbane into the mixture.

“That’s good, it’s your birthright, don’t let it go.” Bragi answered instinctively. It send a pang of longing through his chest thinking about birthrights. Dagur flicked through his mind, so did pure want. By Thor he missed Dagur, so much.

Tuffnut seemed to sense his silence, because when Bragi looked back up from his lap, the blonde was staring at him, paused mid grind, with curious and comforting eyes. 

“You miss him, don’t you?” Tuffnut asked. “Dagur? I know it’s only been three days but you spent your life with him.”

Bragi inhaled sharply, darting his eyes across the floorboards before his shoulders slumped forward. “I miss him so fucking much that it hurts. Dagur has been my best friend for years, he… he carried me out of the arena when I fought my father.” Bragi clenched his fists and crossed his arms over his chest, it being his turn to hunch in on himself. “I love him I think, more than anything in the world.” He admitted softly.

“I get you.” Tuffnut replied with the same soft tone. “It’s like Ruffnut and me, except you know, Ruffnut’s my sister and Dagur’s pretty much your soulmate.”

Bragi’s head snapped up, eyes wide in alarm as he glanced at the easy smile on Tuffnut’s lips.

“Chill, chill, only Ruff and I have noticed. You guys were way too obvious when you were kids.” Bragi blushed then, feeling slightly embarassed as he ducked his head. It felt nice, to talk to someone about Dagur like this, to be open and honest. It was probably because Tuffnut had the heart of a Berserker, probably because it meant he was somewhat family. Probably because Tuffnut, with his blonde hair and blue eyes reminded him of his baby brother with a tuft of gold on his head.

Bragi leaned back on his arms, watching as Tuffnut puttered around and finished off his poison before using a wooden spatula to scrape it into a small jar. It was labeled accordingly, and then kept away, back into the herb cupboard, before Tuffnut turned to him with a cheek smile.

“Want to go wrestle boars with Ruffnut?” Tuffnut asked. It didn’t matter that the sun was already setting or that the boars would be a lot more dangerous when irritated in the dark. Bragi got up onto his feet and met Tuffnut’s smile with his own. Tuffnut held his arm out for Bragi to link, and he took it after a moment of hesitance, before Tuffnut dragged him out of the room to go find his twin. 

* * *

Bragi hated the Hofferson household. If there was ever a household that made him think of his own broken family, it was this. Astrid Hofferson was the princess of Berk. Her family came from a long line of warriors, her parents were fearless, as were the rest of her extended family, down to her cousins who had to be younger than ten. The Hofferson parents stared at him like he was a bit of dirt underneath his boot.

His room was the attic, cramped and small. They didn’t allow him to go near astrid’s room, even as the girl shot him apologetic glances from across the dinner table.

One good thing Bragi supposed, was the lack of food they gave him. He still had food squirreled away from the Ingerman house, since he now had a bag with actual belongings, courtesy of the Thorston twins, so he nibbled and chewed on his Fire Root while sitting in the dark of the attic, staring out at the window .

He didn’t get a single chance to scour for information at the Hofferson home, he was closely monitored and one of the Hofferson parents stayed up in turns to keep watch over the house. The evident distrust was clear and yes it was necessary, but it made him angry. He just wanted to do his job and go home to Dagur.

Before they could kick him out of the house in the morning, Astrid had dragged him out by his wrist and deposited him into the dragon training arena.

“I’m so sorry.” She muttered in disbelief as she paced in front of him. “They’re normally so polite.”

“I can’t blame them.” Bragi replied, albeit with a tone of bitterness. “If I were them I wouldn’t let a psychopath near their daughter either.”

“You’re not a psychopath.” Astrid protested as the other riders began to trail into the arena. 

“I’m Bragi the Berserk for a reason. I beat my father to death with no mercy and came out fucked up in the head.” Bragi said bluntly. “Your parents wouldn’t want someone like that near their kid.” 

“I know I wouldn’t have let anyone like that near Sverri.” Bragi tacked on in a soft mutter after a moment.

“Sverri?” Hiccup asked from behind them. Bragi didn’t even realize he was there, let alone listening.

Bragi turned around, meeting Hiccup’s curious green eyes. “My little brother.” 

“I didn’t know you had one? Is he still on Berserk?” Snotlout asked from his right despite the obvious gestures to stop talking from Hiccup.

Bragi snapped his eyes shut and shrugged with clenched fists. “I guess you could say that.” 

“Why didn’t you ask him to come here? We’d protect him from Dagur.” Snotlout continued on. Bragi inhaled slowly through his nose.

“He doesn’t need protecting from Dagur, Snotlout.” Bragi said firmly.

“I mean if Dagur hurt yo-”

“For Thor’s sake Snotlout! Sverri’s dead!” It wasn’t Bragi that shouted it out loud. Tuffnut had his own fists clenched at his sides when Bragi opened his eyes. It was clear that by the way everyone was staring at him, that he was the one that yelled. Ruffnut was standing next to him, but her eyes were trained onto Bragi and the look in them had Bragi’s knees feeling weak.

Damn the twins for looking so much like his little brother. A part of him guessed Sverri would’ve looked like them if he had the chance to grow up.

“Oh.” Snotlout said in a small voice from next to him. “Bragi. I’m sorry.”

“It’s been a long time Snotlout, really, I was fifteen when it happened. Don’t worry about it.” Bragi rubbed his hands over his face, before he shot the twins a grateful look. 

* * *

Hiccup felt bile rising in his throat when he heard the full story from his father. They’d sat down on the first night Bragi had stayed on Berk, next to the fire as Hiccup nervously asked his father about Bragi’s.

“Cnut the Cruel was a horrible father Hiccup. That boy fought for his freedom, just as much as he fought for his little brother.” 

“He really beat Bragi’s brother to death for being a hiccup?” Hiccup paused before glancing down at his own hands. Bragi’s behaviour through their childhood made a lot more sense now he knew the whole story. Most of what everyone knew was that Bragi had challenged his father and had beaten the man to death in a fit of Berserker Rage. Only the Berserkers really knew why.

“He did.” Stoicks eyes softened and he reached out to pull his son into a hug. “Berserkers had very little leeway for weakness, but we’re different. You’re different.” Hiccup stared up at his father, tears pricking his eyes.

“He can stay here can’t he. Bragi? We won’t make him go back?” 

“Not after what Dagur did to him son. He can stay.” Stoick said while patting Hiccup’s shoulders gently. 

* * *

Staying in Hiccup’s house to say the least, felt awkward. Stoick was awkwardly hovering over his shoulder like a concerned parent as Bragi spent some time with Hiccup in the house. 

It was different. Bragi was so used to little sleep, barking orders. The sawy of the ship underneath him that even though he’d been spending a week on dry land, he found it incredibly hard to get to sleep. 

He told Hiccup he was going to take a nap, but as he laid in his makeshift bed next to Hiccup’s he was stuck staring at the ceiling, not knowing what to do. A few months ago he was working to break Dagur out of prison. He’d been leading the Armada, he’d been fighting Haggard for command the entire time. 

Bragi sat up when he heard a creak at the stairs. The Night Fury was staring at him with big green eyes, looking wary but curious. It sniffed the air carefully before it approached him. Bragi stilled as it nudged his boot, sniffing what had to be the Fire Root on his body before it turned away and bounded back down the stairs.

“So that’s what a Night Fury looks like.” He muttered to himself before he sat up. His stomach rumbled and he reached over to his bag to nibble on a strip of dried meat the Ingermen had given him. He had it with some Fire Root, before he kept his things away and rubbed at his eyes, feeling a hint of exhaustion catch up to him.

Dinner came and went. Roast boar that Bragi could barely stomach, ale that he drank half a cup of before he gave up, feeling his stomach cramp. They were expecting him to eat, but the Fire Root made his appetite completely disappear. Stoick watched him from the end of the table with concern, his fingers steepled together as he leaned his chin on his fists. 

“Bragi, son, are you alright?” Bragi lifted his head from his plate, eyes darting around the room quickly before his eyes landed on Stoick. He nodded hastily.

“I’m fine.” He said quickly. “Just not used to having so much food. The Armada is on strict rations since Berserk stopped dealing with traders.” Bragi picked at his plate. “I don’t mean to make you waste your stores.” 

Stoick immediately shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Eat what you can, Hiccup and I can handle the rest.” The look Stoick gave him wasn’t something he’d seen before, at least not from his own father. Bragi felt his chest tighten with longing, before he ducked his head and averted his gaze. 

Stoick glanced between bragi and his son before his shoulders relaxed. “Alright, I’m going to the Great Hall, I’ll see you two when I get home this evening.” Stoick said with a nod. Bragi voiced his agreement along with Hiccup, without lifting his head as Stoick’s chair scraped backwards and he made his way out of the house.

“Bragi. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine Hiccup. Really.” He finally looked up at Hiccup from across the table. “Just getting used to life being different now.” 

Hiccup frowned but didn’t say anything else, before he continued to pick at his food in silence.

* * *

Bragi shouldn’t have snuck out of the Haddock household thinking he could have gotten away with it. Even if Stoick and the Dragon Riders had their guard down, the rest of Berk clearly hadn’t. There were a group of Berkians that eyed him warily as he stood. He’d forgone his belt just in case, but tattoos and tribal markings were much harder to hide. Once they got a good look at his face, he was done for. 

Bragi didn’t recognize them, didn’t know them or why they thought of him as a threat when he didn’t have any weapons, but he moved away from the group as soon as he could. 

That was a mistake. He didn’t know the alleyways of Berk like he did Berserk island. He cut through the houses of the village, getting himself lost as he had to backtrack from dead end after dead end. Frustrated with himself at the next dead end Bragi spun around, ready to just run to the Great Hall to try and find Chief Stoick when the Berkians had come into his view.

“What’s a Berserker doing on Berk, all defenceless-like.” One of the jeered, tilting his head curiously. Bragi raised a hand to placate them, eyes darting around for an easy escape route. 

“That’s none of your business, sir, if you’re curious perhaps you could ask Chief Stoick.” Bragi retorted before internally berating himself. He could see only two ways outs. Jump the fence behind him and deal with what was on the other side, or fight his way out and get in trouble. 

“It is now. You’re here. On our island, in our village.” Another sneered. He stalked forward. Bragi fell into a stance, digging his boots into the ground and lifting his feet. 

“It’s none of your business!” Bragi hissed.

“You’ve made it our business.” The third viking hissed. He was the first to lunge forward. Bragi dodged to the side, before he rolled out of the way and turned around to grip the edge of the fence. Forget getting in trouble and ruining the plan. He heaved himself over the edge, with barely enough time to glance over the other side before he was falling.


	2. the moon can't find you

Dagur found that being on his ship without Bragi was a lot more boring than he thought it would be. THere was no more easy banter, no one who understood his ever-changing moods, no one who didn’t disappoint him. There was no one else to keep him company, no one to unload his anger into. No one that Dagur could lust for and pull into his bedding when he wanted.

Since Bragi had kissed him down in his cabin, all he could feel was Bragi’s lips, his body. How he tangled his fingers into Bragi’s braid and his fingers digging into Bragi’s flesh. 

He sighed glumly, eyes wandering around the ship for something fun to do. Bragi looked so upset when Jokul had dragged him towards the Reaper’s rail. Hiccup had instantly blamed Dagur for hurting him, and he’d not bothered with Dagur the moment he believed Bragi was in Danger. If Dagur was still twelve and unawares of Bragi’s feelings for him, he would have overreacted to such a gesture.

Saying he didn’t like how Hiccup had forgotten all about their feud to rescue Bragi was an understatement. He hated it more than he hated his great-uncle Haggard from sending Bragi away from him with half the Armada. Then Savage had mentioned a few hours ago, that Bragi was meeting with a rogue trader monthly for supplies.

Something was wrong and he wasn’t going to let it slide.

“I want that traders name Savage!” He barked. The Outcast nodded out of fear, turning to bark orders to the other men.

Dagur’s thoughts were all over the place, it made sense to ally with a specific trader, but other than that, Bragi had no cause to deal with him as frequently as was recorded in the Captain’s Log. There had been times over the past three years where BRagi had gone to meet him multiple times in one month alone. 

The log books didn’t make sense to him. Dagur flipped through them multiple times to look for clues. The trader was unnamed in all of Bragi’s entries, and the only lead was that he’d met him outside the Archipelago.

Feeling curious and suspicious, he wandered down to the Captains’ quarters, pushing open the door slightly and slipping in, closing the door gently behind him. It still looked the same as it did yesterday, and Bragi's possessions were still where he had left them before they’d gone to the graveyard. He shouldn’t spy, not on Bragi of all people, but something had to be wrong.

Bragi’s back was under his bedding, forming a part of his makeshift pillow. His battle axes were on the mattress of his cot, clean and gleaming due to Dagur’s boredom on his ship. He poured the contents of Bragi’s bag over the mattress, shaking out clothing, vials and dried fruits and meats alike. A small, black, leather bound book clattered onto the floor from the bag. There was an emblem embossed into the book. Dagur leaned down to pick it up, turning it over in his hands before he ran his thumb over the crest. It was unfamiliar to him, but he knew it wasn’t one of theirs. The emblem depicted a series of runes and a wolf, howling towards the embossed moon. 

Dagur unwound the ribbon binding the book shut, rubbing his thumb over it when he felt the fine, high quality silk. He frowned, the book must have been a gift, for Bragi to bring it along and cherish it greatly enough to have it with his personal belongings. He opened to the first page, spotting Bragi’s name neatly scrawled at the bottom of the first page.

He turned the page over, reading the first few lines of penmanship that definitely was not Bragi’s handwriting. 

_ My dearest, _

_ It pains me greatly that you must return to the Archipelago where I cannot visit you. I pray to the Gods that you return to my arms soon, this is my gift to you. _

_ Your sun and stars. _

Dagur frowned at the message written in thin, neat strokes. It certainly wasn’t something he had written to Bragi, or anyone else he knew. The next few entries were from Bragi himself, cursing great-uncle Haggard for sending him so far away. More personal versions of the Captain’s logs, including more detail about what he had seen, who he’d met, what he’d done. A particular entry stood out to him as he flicked past it.

_ ‘He’s very gentle with me, nothing like Dagur would be… I miss him, I miss Dagur so much. But because of Haggard I’m stuck here. Fuck Haggard, I want to be home with Dagur.’ _ Dagur dropped the book onto the floor in shock, the sudden realization crashing into him. He snatched the book back up hastily, flipping through pages after pages until he caught sight of a name. 

_ ‘I’ve run out of Fire Root, the small pouch I had is somewhere in the bottom of the ocean, the spare in my boot went with it too. Steinar’s promised not to push me, he’ll lock me away if needs be, with Dream Root if he has too.’  _ A charcoal smudge left behind indicated that Bragi had paused, letting the charcoal rest on the page for too long.  _ ‘Also I’ve met Steinar’s brother today… he told me Steinar is a prince so why is he calling himself a simple trader. Haakan offered to share me and Steinar threatened to rip his cock off. I hate it hear, Haggard keeps sending me away, progress on getting Dagur out is slowing down. I’ve detoured so I can try and meet Steinar closer to Outcast Island but it’s getting harder. If I could, Haggard would be lying dead with his heart and his throat ripped out. Steinar is calling me, I have to go.” _

Dagur huffed. He knew those names. Steinar was definitely a prince, from North outside of the Archipelago and it was west to Berserk. It was too far out of the way for Haggard to even be sending Bragi, so why was he out there. Dagur didn’t know, but he was definitely going to find out why.

* * *

Bragi was falling. The ground rushed towards him in a blur. He twisted to try and land on his side rather than his back. His shoulder caught on the edge of the cliff and it had him spinning. He landed on his foot with a sickening crunch, his ankle bent to the side. It hurt like Hel. Bragi crumpled onto his knees, breathing heavily through his nose as he stared at the dirt in front of him. He tried to put weight on his foot, shaking when he pushed himself onto his feet despite the pain. His leg shook every time he took a step. His breath was coming out in short, heavy pants as he started to move towards the forest and the trees around him.

Everything hurt so badly. Bragi bit back a whimper as he leaned against a tree. He reached into his boot, only to find his Fire Root pouch empty and lacking. Bragi let out a frustrated yell, smacking his palm against the trunk of the tree he was leaning on. 

“No!” He wasn’t keeping track. He messed up.

The pain was stabbing in his ankle. He had two choices now, he had to wait for someone to notice he was missing or he could climb his way back up. A twig snapped behind him, Bragi spun around eyes searching the dark. He froze when eyes lit up in the shadows, staring back at him.

“Ohhkay, hello dragon.” Bragi chuckled nervously, leaning back against the tree he was holding. “You’re not going to attack a wounded viking are you?” The eyes blinked in the shadows. Bragi’s eyes darted around the trees, looking for a way out. He lunged, not anticipating the terrain under his feet. He crumpled and fell back to his knees with a keening wail, a sound that hadn’t escaped his mouth in years.

He was getting soft. The bushes and undergrowth rustled as the dragon crept forward. Its snout came into the moonlight first. It was red and black, colours patchy on its scales. Its horns gave it away. The monstrous nightmare crawled forward towards him curiously. It sniffed around his head, a growl rumbling low in its belly as it nudged his injured ankle. 

Bragi hissed, jerking his foot away from the dragons’ snout. It rumbled at him curiously before it circled him and laid itself down with its’ face in front of his own. Its eyes were wide and curious while it inched closer to him, finally pressing its snout into the crook of his elbow.

“Hi there.” Bragi said after a while, his own eyes wide with shock. The dragon was gentle as hits jaw brushed against his arm, before its head then rested down onto his lap. The night started to get colder, a breeze began to blow past, making Bragi shiver. He had none of his furs, just in a tunic and pants and nothing else. The dragon seemed to sense it, because its tail lit up and wrapped around closer towards him.

“Hey, maybe you’re not so bad after all.” Bragi commented as the dragon let out a rumbly purr. The dragon warmed up next to him, keeping him warm. Bragi settled back against the tree and wrapped his arm over the dragon’s neck. So he waited, because that’s all he had to do.

If he didn’t survive this. If he died because he let his guard down. Dagur was never going to see him in Valhalla. 

* * *

Night had fallen and the dragon riders had gone looking for Bragi once Stoick had told them that he was missing. Hookfang and Snotlout had gone West, Astrid and Stormfly were going around the perimeter of the village, Fishlegs and Meatlug were going to scout the cove and the coastline, while Toothless, Barf & Belch, Ruffnut, Tuffnut and Hiccup were going to search the forest.

The moon shone brightly as the dragon riders searched the areas they’d flown too. Wherever Bragi had gone, it wouldn’t have been willingly, it was the last week of nesting season on Berk, most the dragons would have calmed down enough for interaction with Vikings, but Bragi was someone the dragons of Berk didn’t know Among all of the dragon riders, Fishlegs and Hiccup were the most worried of the two. Both wanted information about Dagurs armada and what he intended to do when he’d gotten the window of opportunity.

As they flew over the treetops, Hiccup, Tuffnut and Ruffnut kept their eyes peeled for any sign of him. The search didn’t take long, the twins spotted the flaming Nightmare tail in the forest, and their Berserker next to it, limp with his fists clenched by his sides.

“Bragi!” Hiccup yelled, slinging his foot over Toothless’ back as they landed, heading straight towards him without a second thought. In an instant, the Monstrous Nightmare had its head reared up, hovering over the Berserker protectively, it’s tail whipping in front of Hiccup's face before he got to close, its’ maw open in a snarl, teeth glinting in the moon and firelight as its entire body lit up.

“It’s okay bud.’ Hiccup murmured, raising a hand threateningly as he stepped closer to the agitated dragon. “I just wanna see if Bragi’s alright.” Hiccup inched closer. The dragon closed its’ mouth, eyes trained on Hiccups form as he knelt down next to Bragi, hands flailing around awkwardly for a moment, not knowing where to be placed before he settled on feeling his forehead, recoiling at the too cold temperature of his skin.

The Monstrous Nightmares tail lit up again and the dragon wrapped it in a circle around Hiccup and Bragi, not actually touching the two Vikings, but creating a circle of warmth for them.

“Looks like some dragons are still feeling their paternal instincts.” Hiccup muttered, gazing at the dragon tail. He pushed his hand under Bragi's back, trying to lift him into a sitting position. “Ruff, Tuff, help me get him onto Toothless.” As Hiccup hoisted Bragi’s arm over his shoulder to move him, the Monstrous Nightmare snarled and snapped at the young viking, not actually making any contact.

Bragi was cold, shaking slightly in Hiccup’s grip. 

“Is he hurt?” Tuffnut asked worriedly from Barf’s head. 

“Gothi will have something for him if he is.” Hiccup murmured as he placed him precariously onto TOothless’ back. 

“Why’s he so cold Hiccup?” Ruffnut asked as Belch leaned over to let her brush her hand against Bragi’s forehead. The Monstrous Nightmare made an aborted noise behind them before it took off back into the trees. 

“I don’t know Ruff, but we’ll find out when we get to Gothi, okay?” Hiccup muttered. Bragi let out a soft noise of discomfort on Toothless’ back. Hiccup glanced down at him nervously, before they took off back towards the village and Gothi’s hut. 

* * *

They had returned to Berk easily enough and Hiccup had flown Toothless directly towards Gothi’s hut, calling out for the shaman loudly. The door to her hut swung open and her eyes widened when she saw Bragi shivering and held up between the twins. Gothi began writing frantically with her staff, ordering them to place Bragi next to the firepit inside her hut. 

The twins brought him over before laying him down and setting Ruffnut’s vest under his head as a makeshift pillow. Gothi had begun mixing a dark purple paste, that smelt of yaks milk and Monstrous Nightmare mucus into a small bowl, with a wooden spoon, making hand gestures to herself as she turned towards Tuffnut.

Hiccup looked on with concern as Tuffnut took the bowl from her without a hint of nervousness and began adding ingredients from a pile Gothi gestured to. When Tuffnut grabbed a familiar orange plant from the ingredients.

“Fire Root? I thought that was only found West, near Berserk?” Hiccup asked while rubbing the back of his neck. Gothi scratched out a response before taking the bowl back from him, and kneeling down to rub the paste along the bare skin around Bragi’s neck and shoulders as well as her forehead, sighing down at the Berserker.

“I should have noticed.” Tuffnut sighed, mostly to himself and his sister. “He wasn’t eating much, wasn’t sleeping. He’s been so tired.”

More scratching from Gothi had Tuffnut frowning in frustration. “What do you mean we can’t stay with him!” Gothi shook her head and he nodded, drooping his shoulders down, his eyes soft with concern.

  
  


* * *

Letting his ankle heal was hard, having to admit that he had been taking Fire Root despite the proven ill effects had been harder, especially when the twins had come to visit him while he was laid up in Chief Stoick’s house. Bragi couldn’t meet the twins eyes, as they stared down at him with concern.

“Why’d you do it? You know, everyone knows that Fire Root causes loss of appetite. It can lead to malnutrition. You could have gotten hurt.” Tuffnut said while throwing his hands up in the air.

“Berserkers use it a lot, to sustain us in battle.” Bragi shrugged as he explained. “We use it to keep focused, to stay battle ready. If I had some when I fell, none of you would have needed to come looking for me. Besides, after being on rations for so long, Fire Root is all we really have to stay alert. We don’t have enough food to feed the village and the armada, so we went on rations to feed our people.”

“Why didn’t you meet traders, get more food?”

“Do you think we could? Did you think, that my people, Dagur’s people, could ask for help and not be belittled by it? Be turned away?” Bragi snapped, before he dropped his hands in his lap. “Our people are prideful, but not even that. Dagur and his war, my actions, we crippled our people. No one wants to trade with us!” 

Ruffnut and Tuffnut softened and sat down on either side of him, both of them patting his forearms. “Look guys, Fire Root is all we have to our advantage. The armada needs it so that we can protect our people. We’ve used it for the last nine generations.” 

“It’s dangerous.” Tuffnut frowned.

“It could kill you.” Ruffnut added.

“I’d be dead ten times over if I hadn’t used it.” He responded. Bragi inhaled deeply before turning his palms up. “Fire Root keeps alive. It keeps us strong. We’re Berserkers it’s a part of us. You can’t make me stop it, it would cripple me.” 

Tuffnut and Ruffnut glanced at each other over Bragi’s head, concern dotting their features as they communicated wordlessly with each other. They patted Bragi’s hair gently, before they left him with a small promise they would come back with food. Outside of Hiccup’s house, Tuffnut propped his hands onto his hips.

“We’re not telling Hiccup.” 

“Tuff.” Ruffnut said with a warning in her tone.

“Did you hear what he said? Fire Root is the only thing protecting their village. Imagine what would happen if the Armada was weakened, crippled and someone else decided to invade?” Tffnut whisper-yelled, gesturing with one hand back towards Hiccup’s bedroom. “Besides! He’s a Berserker like us! He could teach us!”

“Just because Grandma Asta was a berserker doesn’t mean that we are.” Ruffnut said with a discouraging tone. Tuffnut frowned, before he grabbed his sisters arm and dragged her into an alleyway before he whispered harshly.

“Berserkers have  _ seidhmadhr _ and Bragi is one!” Ruffnut’s eyes widened and they flicked back towards the house. “He could teach us, accept us. It’s our birthright.”

“It’s not our Thorston birthright!” Ruffnut protested.

“Who cares?” Tuffnut exclaimed a bit too loudly. “We’re Thorston black sheep! Berserker-ing is in our blood. Grandma Asta would have wanted us to be proper Berserkers.” 

“Tuff.” Ruffnut tried once more. She could already feel her resolve beginning to break. All their childhood, Tuff had wanted to be a proper  _ seidhmadhr, i _ a proper  _ vitki _ , he wanted to learn everything. Protecting Bragi, despite the information being so valuable, it would give Tuffnut the means to get what he wanted. She sighed and nodded, before she met her brothers excited eyes.

“Thank you!” He crowed a bit too loudly before he scrambled forward to hug her. He repeated it again once more, with sincerity that made her heart clench as she hugged him back.

Afterall. Tuffnut was her brother. She’d do anything for him.

* * *

Turned out, Bragi was a natural at healing once he had access to more Fire Root. The twins were the first to see him getting out of bed, gingerly putting his weight on his ankle, but other than a bit of hesitance, the Berserker was fine. His first step wobbled, but his next was firm, and it wasn’t long before Bragi was standing in front of the two of them with a smile on his face and his back straight.

“Berserker’s don’t feel pain huh.” Tuffnut heard Snotlout comment as they finally made it out of the house and into the street. “Where was that when he was lying in the forest with a sprained ankle?” 

Ruffnut wound one arm through Bragi’s right, while Tuffnut grabbed his left. “Come on, let us show you around Berk.” Tuffnut offered. Bragi, despite having caught what Snotlout muttered, nodded and met the twins’ blue eyes with ease.

Forget about the mission for a moment, Tuff and Ruff reminded him too much of his little brother with their wide, blue eyes for him to care about anything else. 

* * *

“We can’t take him with us Hiccup!” Astrid argued. “Bragi’s still shaky on his ankle. They were going to explore the areas on the maps they’d found in the Dragon Eye, Hiccup was eagerly rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet as he replied. 

“Bragi could help us Astrid. He’s a good fighter, he’s good with an axe or spear.” Hiccup darted his eyes over to Bragi who was leaning on Tuffnut’s shoulder. “And that way we can get him to talk about Dagur if necessary.” Hiccup tacked on with a quiet voice. 

The bruise on his throat was still there even as the armour the twins had lent to him. His Berserker belt was gleaming in the sunlight. 

“Fine, but you can save him if something goes wrong.” Astried hugged and crossed her arms over her breastplate. 

“Alright!” Hiccup clapped his hands together. “Guys, let’s go! Bragi you can ride with the twins.” Hiccup called over to the other Dragon Riders. They whooped and cheered before getting on their dragons enthusiastically.

They flew on for hours, going from island to island and crossing it off the map that they had, first they ran from boars, then there were Whispering Death holes, she shuddered at the thought of them, and when he saw the blue oleander flower he almost whooped in joy until Fishlegs reminded everyone that they were poisonous to dragons.

They had managed to find a nicer island where they landed and made camp for the night on, where Tuffnut told them scary stories about yak rats and yak dragons. He found them stupid but they still made him chuckle as he leaned back against a log, he turned on his side against the log that she was using as as a rest, his bicep as his pillow. The fire burned with a soft hiss and crackle on the ground, soft orange glow reflecting off of the dew that began to cover the ground as the others turned in for the night.


	3. build the guts to do something

Bragi was fourteen when his mother had announced that she was pregnant. At first, he might have thought it was the end of the world, that there was going to be another Sigurdsson in the family, but, nine months later when Bragi’s little brother was born, he changed his mind.

Their mother died in childbirth, but little Sverri looked exactly like her. Even less than an hour old, he had a golden tuft of hair on top of his head, matted down, wet with blood and all other kinds of things. Sverri’s eyes were the same bright blue that their mother had, so bright and so deep and warmer than anything in the world THeir father wasn’t even there for him to see his second son.

Bragi was the first to hold him, baby Sverri. He was the first to attempt to feed baby Sverri warm milk from a bottle. He was the first to change him, to bathe him. He was the first to introduce the baby to his maternal grandparents.

Bragi was also the first to watch his baby brother die.

Their father had finally decided to pay a visit to his second son. Cnut the Cruel was a large man, his frame was broad, he was taller than most men, at an inch over six foot. His beard and fiery hair did more than enough to compensate for the slight roundness in the man’s belly. 

“He’s a runt.” Their father had roared, loud enough that it shook their entire house. Sverri was in the cot behind him, crying from the commotion as Bragi hefted his mothers battle axe in his hands. “Runts deserve to die for the good of the tribe!” Cnut had screamed.

“He’s my brother!” Bragi shouted back with the same intensity. He may have had his mother’s eyes, but he was kissed by fire and had the same intensity as his father. “You’re not going to touch him!” 

“Do you think you could take me boy?” Cnut sneered from in front of him. His father barely needed a weapon to intimidate, the sharp barbs of his tongue and the poison he spat were usually enough to have Bragi backing down, this time however, the ginger teen ground his feet against the wooden floors.

“Fuck you and your broken idea of tradition. He’s my brother. He’s your son.” Bragi yelled. “You lay a hand on him and I’ll fucking kill you myself!” Cnut charged before he could finish his sentence, bowling Bragi and his barely filled out frame into Sverri’s crib. 

Sverri’s cries went from high pitched to deafening as Bragi rolled around, trying to wrestle his father. His head was slammed into the floorboards until his ears were ringing. His father broke his knows without any hesitation, before he turned his attention to Sverri, crying in his broken crib.

“No!” Bragi tried to move. His whole body ached, he groaned as he tried to push himself up. Cnut’s next punch connected with Sverri’s frail legs, causing the infant to screech. Bragi rolled over onto his stomach, before he finally pushed himself up onto his knees with his head swimming. Punches continued to rain down onto his baby brother’s frail body. He lunged forward, tackling his father, that monster, away from his brother.

The floor was mostly red when the night ended. The neighbours had heard the commotion. News spread through Berserk like wildfire. It was Oswald the Agreeable that had burst into their house to tear his general off his own firstborn son.

Bragi, with his swimming head and swollen eye, could barely focus on the lump that remained of his baby brother. He crawled over to him, tears streaming freely down his cheeks as he choked out sobs while gathering his little brother into his arms. 

“Bragi.” Dagur’s soft voice came from above him, choked with emotion. Strong arms wrapped around his frame and Dagur held him, until his tears stopped and they stained his cheeks with tracks down to his chin.

Dagur held him up when they stood in the Great Hall in front of Dagur’s father. Cnut was restrained and in chains, stripped of his armour and set on his knees, like a proper criminal was.

“Bragi.” Chief Oswald began softly. “There were witnesses to what happened tonight. Your neighbours, yourself. What would you like to be done?” Bragi, despite his aching body, stepped up towards the Chief’s chair, waving Dagur off as he reached out to steady him. 

“Trial by combat Chief.” Bragi growled through gritted teeth. “I won’t accept anything other than making this monster pay for what he’s done.” No one in the Great Hall bothered to protest against it.

The night before his fifteenth birthday, he had sealed his fate and his fathers.

* * *

The fight was scheduled for a month to allow him to heal. Bragi still had blue hinting underneath his eyes. He still had an ache when he walked, a limp in his step and his nose was slightly crooked from not having been reset properly. 

The day came far too fast for him. Bragi stood in his room, in his home, now empty, lacking a mother, a brother and a monster. The mirror in front of him mocked him as he strapped on his armour with trembling fingers.

He didn’t know if it was rage, or fear that was eating at him. There were still bloodstains on the floor, although most of it had been cleaned. Bragi did not know if they were his or his little brothers. A soft knock drew him out of his thoughts and his attention on his fumbling fingers.

Dagur peeked his head around the door with curious eyes, before Bragi waved his hand and let him in. 

“You’re going to do great today.” Dagur said carefully as he walked up to Bragi and stood behind him. Dagur’s fingers found the clasps to his armour, securing them for him as he stared into Dagur’s eyes from the mirror. 

“I’m going to win or I won’t be going to Valhalla.” Bragi retorted, but he turned around to meet Dagur’s eyes and he leaned down to kissed the edge of Dagur’s hairline.

“You should let me braid your hair.” Dagur said against his cheek, changing the subject. Dagur’s hair was always braided back neatly. Bragi stepped back from his best friend and turned back to the mirror, before he sat down in a chair. “I’ll put it in a warrior’s braid for you.” Dagur promised sincerely as he began to thread his fingers through Bragi’s auburn hair.

“I’m going to become War Chief.” Bragi said, matter-of-factly as Dagur began the braid, pulling his hair tightly out of his face. Dagur made a humming noise in agreement, his fingers still working through Bragi’s hair.

“I’ll be loyal to your father and then to you when you take the title of Chief.” At that, Dagur’s fingers hesitated in his hair, halfway down the length of the braid.

“Bragi You’re going to win today.” Dagur said firmly, as he went back to finishing the braid. “You’re going to win for your brother. You’re going to win for your mother. You’re going to win because you love this tribe and you will not leave that monster of a man by my father’s right hand.” Dagur let the finished braid hang over his shoulder, before his already calloused fingers found the slight bump in the length of Bragi’s nose. 

“Thank y-you Dagur.” Bragi said with a small stutter, his cheeks pink and the tips of his ears pinker. “It means so much to me.” 

* * *

Dagur sat next to his father, rubbing his hands together nervously while he watched Bragi pace around the arena. Cnut had gotten a few early blows, but Bragi had slipped away, too fast for his father to catch him.

“Your friend is going to be fine.” Oswald murmured over son, using a firm hand to stop his bouncing knee. “Bragi was the best in your classes, the boy knows what he’s doing.”

“I know.” Dagur snapped, eyes still trained on his best friend and Cnut circling one another, bruised. Bragi spat onto the sand, leaving a glob of red as he brandished his battle axe. Cnut rushed forward, his own sword slamming it to the axe and sending Bragi rolling to the side to avoid the blow. The sword barely missed Bragi’s braid as it swung into the ground.

“Dagur.” Oswald said with a tone of warning in his voice.

“He has to win.” Dagur replied to his father, the ‘ _ or he’ll die’ _ went unspoken between them. Dagur fidgeted in his seat as Bragi rolled forward, leaving his battle axe in the sand before he charged at Cnut. Bragi caught the swing of his father’s sword in his wrapped hands, stilling the atmosphere of the arena before Bragi yanked the sword out of his hands. 

Now resolved to hand to hand combat, Dagur leaned forward to watch as Bragi moved in a flash of blur, ducking and dodging punches from heavy fists. It was nerve-wracking. Dagur wanted to call out, to point out where Cnut was leaving his left flank open, he just wanted to do  _ something _ .

Cnut’s fist connected with the side of Bragi’s head, knocking him from his stance. The redhead stumbled back and brought his fists up to block the next punch, just barely, before Cnut’s fist caught him in the stomach. Bragi doubled over as Cnut gripped the length of his braid in his fist and slammed his knee into Bragi’s face. Cnut got a good grip on Braggs arm, before twisting it until there was a sickening cracking that rang out through the arena. The teen fell forward, before he barelt manahed to roll out of the way of Cnut’s attempt to kick him in the ribs.

Bragi climbed to his feet, his right arm hanging limply at his side. He was panting and cursing and spitting blood from his mouth, red staining his teeth and lips. Bragi ducked under Cnut’s next swing, slamming the full force of his body into Cnut’s side, bowling him over before Bragi dropped his knees onto Cnut’s chest. Winded, Cnut tried to throw Bragi off, only stopped by Bragi punching his nose with a sickening cracking with the arm that wasn't broken.

When Bragi’s blows didn’t stop, Dagur sat forward in his chair. “He’s not going to stop.” He said in realization. Bragi wasn’t. He continued to rain blow after blow onto Cnut’s face while roaring with a Berserker war cry so loud it echoed in Dagur’s ears. Cnut’s yells began to trail off, until they stopped altogether. Until the only sound that echoed in the arena was the sound of fists thudding against flesh and bone and Bragi panting harshly.

The Berserker teen fell to the side, finally moving to crawl off Cnut, before he kneeled forward and keeled over, spitting more blood from his mouth. Dagur lunged off of his chair as his father stood to announce the victor. He vaulted into the arena, not caring that the rest of the village was watching him ignore the bloody mess beside him as he knelt next to Bragi.

“Hey.” Bragi said hoarsely, lifting his head just barely to look at Dagur. The older teen had an arm wrapped around his ribs. His nose was crooked and bleeding, his temple had a cut across it and some of his hair was matted with blood, as were his fists, bloodied and scraped. 

“Bragi.” Dagur’s hands hovered everywhere, searching for injuries before he took Bragi’s face in his hands. “You won!”

Bragi hummed, wincing when he used one hand to try to push him up onto his feet. Dagur gripped onto Bragi’s bicep, pulling him up from the ground before he slung an arm around Bragi’s waist, pulling one of Bragi’s arms over his shoulder.

“The victor!” Oswald announced above them as the villagers peered into the arena wide eyed. “Bragi the Berserk!” 

Bragi lifted his head at the sound of his name, staring up at his chief.

“Hear that, you got your name.” Dagur said into his ear, a conversation meant for the two of them. 

“Alright, Deranged.” Bragi retorted playfully, before a misstep left a sharp pain spreading up his knee and side and he gasped, almost doubling over in Dagur’s grip.

Dagur, instead of retorting with a playful jab, made a worried sound before he gripped tighter onto Bragi’s side. “We need to take you to a healer.” Dagur muttered firmly. 

Silently, Bragi let Dagur take him to the healer. As he laid on the healers bench, he reached out for Dagur’s hand and squeezed it once he found Dagur’s fingers. The younger teen smiled, before taking Bragi’s hand in his and interlocking their fingers together. There didn’t need to be anymore words between them, Bragi smiled back gently, before he closed his eyes and focused on Dagur’s hand in his, rather than the pain.

  
  


* * *

**NOW**

  
  


The introduction of Gustav Larson gave Bragi a headache. The boy, because he was barely at the age where he should be allowed off of Berk, let alone flying a dragon outside the Archipelago, had turned up onto the island that Hiccup dubbed as Dragon’s Edge with a scream.

They had been there for a few months. Their huts were set up. Bragi’s own hut was just across from the twins and it had its own firepit in the centre, high windows and his own colours were painted onto the levered door. Everything was going according to Dagur’s plan, his plan. 

The twins had trusted him, but they were family so it didn’t count-and he was going to do his best not to let them get caught in the crossfire. Hiccup had trusted him after what had happened on Berk. Bragi bonded with Fishlegs over different dragons in his attempt to learn more about them and their weaknesses. Snotlout was only too easy to impress once they’d run a couple training drills on the Edge. All that was left, was Astrid. 

And so far, Bragi couldn’t make a single move without that brat Gustav getting in the way. At first Hiccup had shoved the boy onto Astrid, taking up Astrid’s free time. The boy had gone into the twins care, and then Snotlout’s, Gustav had burned down a quarter of Fishleg’s meditation gardens by the end of his turn. Then Fishlegs came to him with a singed brow and Bragri sighed as he raked his eyes up and down the boy causing so much chaos.

“Alright Fishlegs.” Bragi relented under the blond’s stare. Reluctantly, the Berserker stepped forward to size up Gustav, tilting his head curiously at him as Gustav smiled widely at him.

“You, make yourself useful.” Bragi barked, not minding when he startled. “Come on, training drills should have started an hour ago if not for your idiocy.” Bragi said bluntly as he stalked past Gustav while grabbing onto his skinny arm. 

Gustav yelped in his grip as Bragi dragged him down into the arena. “Hey let me go!” 

“You come onto this island and you can barely look after yourself.” Bragi said with a rough laugh. “You force Hiccup and the others to look after you, you get me dragged into looking after you, you can help me with my training.” He retorted when Gustavs shoulders scrunched up past his ears. 

“Alright.” Gustav said in a small voice, suitably cowed. Bragi barked orders at him while Astrid watched from the edge of the training arena while he hefted a battle axe in his hands. 

“Hey, I don’t mean to be rough with you.” Bragi tacked on after seeing the boys’ scrunched up shoulders. “Just because you have a dragon, it doesn’t mean he’s going to do the thinking for you. You have to take responsibility.” 

Gustav perked up slightly at that, before he fell into line and pulled the targets into place. “Now you have trained before? Had proper training?” 

At Gustav’s silence, Bragi sighed and threw his head back with a curse aimed directly at Loki, who had to be tricking him now. 

It took him an hour and a half to get Gustav to comply with him, but by the time he was done the teenager finally had a steady sheen of sweat on his forehead. Astrid swung herself into the arena, taking Bragi’s attention from Gustav for a moment. Two minutes later, once Astrid left to set up a new drill involving the dragons, Gustav sidled back up to his side.

“So, who exactly are you?” Gustav asked curiously. “You talk about responsibility like you have a lot of it.”

“I don’t really think it’ your business Gustav.” Brafi responded gently. Gustave pouted, before launching into a distracted ramble that had Bragi steeling himself internally. While he had a lot to learn and he was eager, Bragi was so, so close to sending the kid flying over the cliff without his dragon. 

“Well, as you know, I’m Gustav, and I’ve been training to be a dragon rider, have been for years. I’m Snotlout’s apprentice and was his replacement!” Gustav said proudly, like being Snotlout’s replacement was something to be proud of.

“I’m Bragi.” Bragi responded with a similar tone. “And I’m a Berserker General and War Chief and have been since I was fifteen.” Gustav’s eyes grew so comically wide that Bragi instantly regretted parting with that bit of information. “So get back to training or shut up.” He tacked on quickly, dulling the boys’ enthusiasm.

And Bragi would have apologized for being to harsh with his order, if it wasn’t for what Gustav then muttered under his breath about Berserkers. Bragi moved faster than Gustav or Astrid anticipated. He grabbed Gustav by the scruff of his collar and hauled him off his feet, slamming him firmly into one of the support beams of the arena.

“Did you want to run that by me again you fucking brat!” Bragi growled harshly, his blue eyes scanning Gustav’s face as the young teen shrunk back away from him. 

“Bragi! Relax, he’s just a kid!” Astrid yeled from behind him, before he was being tugged away from Gustav by both Astrid and Snotlout, the both of them watching him warily as he gave one last glare towards Gustav. 

“Well tell that fucking kid that if he’s going to say shit like that about a Berserker, he better have the means to back himself up.” Bragi hissed, narrowing his eyes as Gustav trembled and hunched his shoulders pat his ears. Snotlout turned to his mirror image, while Astrid took him by the forearm and dragged him in the direction of Stormfly. 

“He’s not ready to be a dragon rider.” Bragi said under his breath while meeting Astrid’s gaze head on. “You need to tell him the truth before he does something stupid. That he’s not ready. Why won’t you tell him he’s not fucking ready?” 

“Because Hiccup wants to give him a chance. But we all think he’s just not ready for it, it’s just hard to say something like that to him.” Astrid protested weakly. Bragi huffed, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“He’s never going to learn if you don’t teach him properly! The more he’s like this, the more he’s going to get himself and his dragon killed.” Bragi sneered. “If you’re going to train a soldier, you train him like a soldier, not like a child with his first lessons.”

Astrid went quiet, before she nodded and instead pulled her axe from the weapons barrel in the arena. “He’s too irresponsible, and I’ll make Hiccup deal with that. Now, come on. You can help me with target practice since you’ve scared his wits out of him.” Astrid gave him a grin as she patted his shoulder.

“Sure.” Bragi shrugged, reaching for the other battle axe in the barrel and hefting it into his hands. “It’s not like I’d have anything else to do.” 

* * *

“You know, just because you’ve done what they asked, it doesn’t mean that you’re ready.” Bragi said after Gustav had finally finished his ranting to his dragon. Gustav spun around with concern scrawled across his face. Bragi crossed his arms over his chest as the boy sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“What?” Gustav leaned against his dragon. 

“You’re a kid, you’re not going to be ready unless you understand just how important it is to have the responsibility of a dragon rider.” Bragi tilted his head to the side. “You’re over eager and you don’t think.” 

“What would you know?” Gustav sulked. “You don’t even ride a dragon!”

“I don’t. That’s right. But I have my own responsibilities, I always have and I trained my entire life for them.” Bragi huffed. “You’ve been a pseudo dragon rider for what? A couple years?”

“You don’t get it!”

“You’re right, maybe I do, maybe I don’t but I know that unless you grow up, Hiccup and the others are never going to take you seriously.” Bragi said. At that Gustav huffed and turned away, looking at his dragon instead of Bragi, running a hand over his snout.

Sighing to himself and cursing the stubbornness of children, Bragi turned around and started stepping up to his hut, yanking the lever to pull the door shut behind him as he began to strip out of his armour and flop into bed. 

* * *

Dagur sat with the food in front of him, watching the teen scoffed the food in front of him like a wolf. His thoughts wandered to Bragi as the boy kept on eating, he wasn’t talking yet, wasn’t exchanging anything useful. When he did stop though he mentioned something interesting.

“There was this guy there, I’ve never seen him before with the riders, but Astrid was getting along with him, and he taught me a pretty cool trick with a throwing aze before he got mad at me. I think his name was Bragi, or something, started with a b.” Gustav rambled as he bit into another chicken leg. “Which is weird because Bragi is supposed to be the god of poetry. But yeah he was helping Astrid set up training drills in the arena, but he also was wrestling boars in the twins boar pits.”

The boy finally stopped to breath, continuing to shovel more food into his mouth as Dagur took the moment to soak in the information. Bragi was doing well, bonding with the riders, learning their tactics by being the one to help teach them. 

“But he’s also super aggressive, almost caught my neck with one of his axe throws, nearly ripped my head of for saying something I didn’t mean too.” 

“Bragi, did you say?” Dagur finally interrupted, sick of the boy’s constant rambling. He leaned forward and interlocked his fingers, leaning his chin onto them as the boy lifted his eyes to look at the chief. “Did he have blue eyes? Auburn hair like mine?” 

“Yea and he’s pretty too, if you’re into that as a guy.” Gustav commented carelessly. “His eyelashes look real dainty, but I guess that’s only if you’re into psychopathic and dangerous. 

Dagur raised an eyebrow at that, watching as the teen didn’t even seem too bothered by his own comments as he went back to scarfing his food down like a dog. Dagur tapped his fingers against his knuckles as he thought over Gustav’s words. As he thought about Bragi. Gods he missed Bragi something fierce, and couldn’t wait for Bragi to come home.

“That sounds about right.” He murmured to himself as he pushed away his plate. Gustav’s eyes perked up at the movement and he lifted his head back up. “So how did you say we were going to get the Dragon Eye from Hiccup?”   
  
  


* * *

Bragi shuddered as they walked through the unstable caverns, pulling himself out of his memory as Hiccup gestured for them to move forward. Hiccup had asked him to come along as back up against Dagur, since it was his outburst towards Gustav that had the young teen running off in the first place. Bragi bounced excitedly on his heels as the caverns gave a small shake beneath their feet with every step.

The longer he was away from Dagur, the longer it was that he missed him. It was horrible. Especially when he was dragged into his memories. A part of him wished it was easy to go back to being kids. The caverns themselves were mostly silent, the only sounds were made by Hiccup’s prosthetic clinking against the stone, Toothless’ tail as it swished in the stagnant air and the sound of his boots as he took care to step where the caverns wouldn’t crumble.

“Are we there yet?” Dagur’s voice echoed through the caverns.

“We’re close… very close.” Gustav replied from somewhere down the caverns. Dagur’s reply was sharp in response, his tone turned dark as Bragi spotted him. Dagur crept up to Gustav’s back as he talked. Just before he was about to strike, Gustav turned and shone the light from the Dragon Eye directly into Dagur’s eyes, blinding him and forcing him to stumble back, covering his eyes with his hands.

Gustav bolted, as Dagur rubbed his eyes, walking blindly and slowly as the caverns shook and the floor broke apart under all of them. Bragi lunged instinctively as a piece of the ceiling broke above them and he shoved Dagur out of the way as it crashed into the ground and the cavern crumbled out from beneath his feet. 

“Bragi!” Dagur had practically screeched as he fell. Bragi hung onto a rock that was just barely sticking out on the side of the cavern wall. He could feel his fingers slipping. He scanned the cavern wall quickly, for another handhold or foothold but none of them were close enough to him. His boots slipped on the crumbling stone, he caught a flash of red as one hand slipped.

“Got you!” Dagur grunted as he snapped his fingers around Bragi’s wrist. The stone crumbled under Dagur’s chest plate as he lowered his other hand to grip onto Bragi’s pulling him up and over the side of the cliff.

Bragi collapsed onto Dagur’s frame, his heart pounding in his chest as he met Dagur’s green eyes. Dagur froze, before he wrapped his arms around Bragi’s shoulders and hugged him tight. Dagur clung to him tightly, until Toothless’ tail whipped between them and sent Bragi rolling off of Dagur’s body. 

Toothless bounded between them, growling as he turned his teeth towards Dagur, warning him away as Hiccup held his hand out towards Bragi. “Come on, we have to go!” Hiccup urged as the entire island rumbled. Bragi grabbed his hand with one last longing look at Dagur, before he pulled himself onto Toothless’ back and the Night Fury ran.


	4. familiarity doesn't mean much

Bragi didn’t like the new girl. Technically she wasn’t new, the riders knew who she was. Everyone seemed very happy to see her there, they greeted her with hugs and laughs. Snotlout and Fishlegs both flirted with her while Tuffnut flirted with her Razorwhip. There was something about her, her green eyes, the way she tilted her head and spoke that Bragi couldn’t put his finger on and he hated it.

It felt like something was in his territory and he couldn’t discern what it was. Another part of him was ansty because he had seen Dagur and had to leave him behind back in the caverns. He missed his best friend so much that it wasn’t fair. 

Heather’s laugh caught his attention as he lifted his head from the book of tips he was writing for Tuffnut. He flicked the book closed as they got closer to the firepit of the clubhouse and leaned his elbow on it as he watched Snotlout trip over himself trying to impress Heather. He didn’t realize he was staring until Tuffnut’s face slid into his view, waving a hand in front of his eyes.

“Bragi!” Tuffnut shouted while poking out his tongue. Bragi startled, almost falling off the chair he was propped up in. “You were lost in your head.” Tuffnut said after a while. Bragi blinked, before he glanced at Tuffnut.

“I was just thinking about things, that’s all.” Bragi replied, his hand coming to touch the beads on the braided leather cord around his throat.

“Who’s that?” Bragi heard Heather’s voice whisper. He glanced over to see Heather standing with Hiccup, Snotlout lingering behind her as she stared over at Bragi with curious eyes.

“That’s Bragi. He’s a Berserker.” Heathers eyes snapped from curious to hardened almost instantly and her brow furrowed as she very obviously raked here eyes across Bragi’s frame, assessing him.

Bragi knew he was scary. His tattoos were a dark shade of blue, his shoulders were broad and he knew that his arms were his prized assets, his hair was braided back so that the scars on his face were visible. Bragi gave them a shrug and a wave, before he turned slightly to look at Tuffnut. The elder twin gave him a look before he gestured over his shoulder. 

“Did you want to help us improve on… you know what.” Tuffnut lowered his voice at the end of his sentence. The ‘you know what’ being a spell that he needed for a reading. With a genuine smile, Bragi nodded, picking up the book as he stood from his chair. As soon as he stood, Heather had flinched in his peripheral vision. Her hand had twitched towards her axe. Interesting.

Bragi noted the response, but turned his attention fully to Tuffnut when the blonde waved a hand in front of his face to get his attention.

“Sorry.” He said again, smiling at Tuffnut. “Lead the way Tuff.” 

* * *

  
  


Bragi realized that Heather wasn’t as helpless, long before he caught her shifting through his things in his hut. He noticed his window ajar from the other end of the training dome, but the others had just brushed it off. So he went to check on his things, just in case he was wrong and it was just a rogue member of Smidvarg's flock. 

"What do you know? Paranoid Berserker was paranoid for a reason." Bragi drawled in doorway. Heather froze at his voice before she turned around, catching him watching her with hooded eyes.

“Find what you were looking for?” Bragi nodded towards the drawers she was rummaging through while one of his hands reached to his belt for a knife.

“I haven’t found enough.” Heather retorted, although her voice wasn’t as confident as it should have been. Bragi frowned as his eyes flicked to the item in her hands. It was the book he was writing for Tuffnut with spell shortcuts and ingredients.

“What do you think you’re doing with that?” He growled lowly. Heather glanced down quickly at the book, before she met his stare head on. 

“Does Hiccup know you’re corrupting the twins, teaching them black magic?” The question took him by surprise for a moment, before he laughed. 

“I’m sorry. Corrupting? The twins? The Thorston twins? I’m sorry are we talking about the same duo here?” He asked between chuckles. When Heather let out a small growl and pulled her dual axe over her shoulder, Bragi stopped with a raised eyebrow.

“First of all, put that away before you get hurt.” Bragi muttered lowly. “Axes aren’t toys, and second of all, didn’t your parents ever teach you not to go meddling where you could get hurt.” 

Heather gave him an affronted glower, before she tucked his book into her belt and shifted her grip on her axe.

“Oh you don’t want to do that.” Bragi warned. 

“I’m going to tell Hiccup you’ve been practicing dark magic and you’ve been teaching the twins!” Heather practically shouted in his hut. Her voice echoed off the metal of his door, before she lunged towards the doorway. 

Bragi moved quickly. The knife in his hand flew past her face, taking a chuck of her fringe as he grabbed his battle axe from his back and blocked the first strike from her axe with ease. 

“You’re a child, meddling in business that isn’t your own!” Bragi yelled, twisting and shoving her back. “Put the fucking book back and get the fuck out of my hut.” 

Heather raised her chin defiantly, before swung her axe at him again. Bragi rolled backwards to avoid the swing, glancing over his shoulder as he stepped a hint too close to the edge of the wooden balcony around his hut. Heather zipped past him, book still in belt, her axe still in her hand, shouting as she went.

“Fucking child!” Bragi shouted after her, feet thudding onto the wood as he caulted over the edge of the rail, forgoing the stairs Heather was on to crash into the lower level of walkways in an attempt to cut her off. She dodged him, swinging her axe wide and missing him by a mile as he tried to snatch her hair.

“Hiccup!” Heather shouted. The others had already started to come out of their huts. Bragi vaulted again over the second set of stairs as Heather made her way down to the training dome. She may have been quicker than him, but he was lighter on his feet. He rounded the last walkway before launching himself towards the dome from just underneath the club house. He landed on the wooden cover of the dome itself, before he used his axe to slide down it, leaving a large scrape in the wood, before he tossed it to the side and tackled Heather into the ground.

“Woah! Woah!” Heather’s dragon bound between them and shoved him off of her with a snarl and a whip of it’s tail. “What’s going on guys?” Hiccup cried out as he got between Bragi and the dragon.

“Tell your fucking friend,” bragi started between pants. “To not go through my shit and steal things.” He gestured to the book in her belt, now slightly bent and dog-eared. By the time the other riders had made it down and flicked their gazes between Bragi and Heather, concern plastered across their faces,Heather picked herself up off the ground with the help of her dragon and dusted herself off before snatching the book from her belt and brandishing it like it was a weapon.

“He’s corrupting the twins!” Heather stated angrily, flicking the book open before showing the pages to Hiccup. “Berserkers practice  _ seidhr _ .” She glanced over at the twins, although she paused when they looked angry rather than relieved that Bragi had been ‘exposed’.

“Berserkers practice  _ seidhr _ just like how Gothi has her readings to check the towns fucking fortunes.” Bragi yelled angrily stalking over towards Heather despite the warning growl from her dragon to snatch the book out of her hands. 

“Hiccup,  _ seidhr _ is dark magic.” Astrid said from behind Heather. The twins had their arms crossed over their chests as they frowned, eyeing Heather warily. 

“It’s fucking tradition. We’ve been practicing for centuries, over the last twelve generations on record.” Bragi snapped. “If any of you knew anything about Berserk and its history, its tradition, you’d know that I’ve been considered a fully trained  _ seidhmadhr  _ since I was sixteen, and I’ve trained for longer than that!” 

“Wait wait, hold on. Heather, what do you mean he’s corrupting the twins?” Hiccup asked while shaking his head, ignoring the way Bragi glowered at Heather, instead turning towards her.

“The book is for them!” She yelled, whipping her hand out to point at the twins. “I saw him show Tuffnut how to do a reading with tips from the book! I heard him say he was going to give it to them.” 

“Bragi?” Hiccup turned to face him with a disappointed look on his face.

“What? I’m going to get in trouble because I practice something from my fucking tribe? Is that how it works out here?” Bragi snarled defensively. Was Hiccup really going to side with Heather even though he didn’t do anything wrong? Even though it was the twins birthright?

“What? No!” Hiccup protested, shaking his head. “No it’s just, the twins are Hooligans, not Berserkers. You can’t go around teaching them things. It’s just not right.” 

“You’re fucking kidding me! It’s-” He stopped himself, eyes darting over to the twins who looked like they were positively fuming. He couldn’t out them now. Bragi gritted his teeth and gripped the book tightly in his hands, resisting the urge to just slam his axe into someones skull.

“It’s what?” Heather piped up from the safety of being next to her dragon.

“It’s our birthright.” Ruffnut interrupted as she marched over to stand by Bragi’s side. Tuffnut followed, only a step behind until the twins were flanking Bragi with glowers that matched the Berserkers own.

“What do you mean?” “What?” “Yak dung!” The others spoke up all at once, shouting over the top of one another. Bragi winced, eyes flicking between the twins as they glanced at him in concern.

“Enough.” Bragi raised his voice, speaking in the same tone that he usually used when he was talking to the warriors in his armada. “It’s none of your fucking business, who practices what. It’s their birthright, they have a right to practice their own fucking traditions.” He snapped. He shot a glare at Heather as she opened her mouth to protest.

"Our Grandma Asta on our moms side is a Berserker, and so is our mom.” Tuffnut spoke up firmly, his arms still firmly crossed over his chest. They taught us about seidhr while we were growing up.” 

“We’ve been practicing our whole lives.” Ruffnut tacked on. 

“We just never told you guys because of well,” Tuffnut shrugged and gestured over to where Astrid was looking at them like they were dirt.

“That’s because it’s dark magic you guys.” Astrid protested.

“It’s fucking not.” Bragi hissed. “It’s just the same as reading bones or runes or entrails. It’s just the same as what Gothi does except you guys are afraid of it!” 

“Look” Hiccup but in, stepping to stand between them and Heather. “Look Heather, just forget about it. If the twins are Berserkers then it’s their right if they want to practice it. We can’t stop them. As for the stealing.” Hiccup shot Heather a look of warning. “Please leave Bragi’s stuff alone Heather. He’s one of us.” 

Heather’s expression was incredulous, like she couldn’t believe that Hiccup was even defending him. Her mouth dropped open like a gaping fish, before she closed it and glared. Bragi huffed, before he raised an eyebrow.

“Stay the fuck out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.” Bragi warned, before he stalked over to pick up his battle axe. 

“Gladly.” He heard Heather mutter as he began to stalk away. Footsteps thudded behind him, before twin arms wrapped around his shoulders and two heads of blonde hair came into his view.

“Hey brother.” Ruffnut said as they walked, past his face towards her brother.

“Yes my dear sister?” Tuffnut answered with a cheeky tone. The both of them turned to look expectantly at Bragi until he stopped walking.

“What?” Bragi glanced between the both of them.

“I think someone considers us family.” Ruffnut sang out, waggling her eyebrows at Bragi as Tuffnut brought an overly theatrical finger to his chin, tapping it. 

“I do concur with your assessment sis.” Tuffnut crowed before he turned to waggle his eyebrows at Bragi too.

“For Thor’s sake.” Bragi muttered fondly. A smile slipped onto his face as the twins slung their arms back over his shoulders. “Alright you brats, yes I think of you as family okay.” 

“Thanks for not outing us big bro.” Ruffnut murmured affectionately as they started up the stairs towards their huts.

“Yeah, and for letting us do it ourselves.” Tuffnut murmured while leaning his head on Bragi’s shoulder. “Big bro.” Tuffnut tacked on as Bragi pretended that his eyes weren’t stinging from tearing up.

“Assholes.” He muttered affectionately to the both of them. “Spawns of Hel the both of you.” And it got a laugh out of the both of them and for a moment, Bragi didn’t care, because he felt like he did when he held his little brother in his arms.

* * *

  
  


Things were shaky for a while. Over the next few days, Bragi could feel the looks that the rest of the riders were giving him and the twins. He was used to them, he had an ugly feeling that the twins were used to them too. Bragi did his best to focus, more on the mission and less on how invested he was becoming in keeping the twins safe and happy.

“Hiccup.” Bragi caught the teens attention as he poked his head into the clubhouse. Hiccup was sitting at the firepit with Toothless curled up next to him, a magnifying glass held over one of his spare prosthetics.

“Bragi?” Hiccup pushed his hair out of his face as he lifted his head. “Hey what’s up?” 

Bragi rubbed his hands together as he stepped into the club house. “I was thinking of running the southern perimeter of the island again? Do you know if anyone’s free to come with me.” 

“It’s good to see that someone’s invested in making sure the perimeter is patrolled.” Hiccup chuckled good naturedly. “Well someone other than me and Astrid.” 

“You gave me a home here Hiccup. I’m going to defend it.” Bragi said while shrugging. He glanced around. “Maybe I should’ve taken you up on that offer for a dragon.” He muttered absentmindedly, before he rolled his shoulders back. Hiccup smiled, before he set down his spare prosthetic.

“How about Toothless and I come with you?” Hiccup offered up while reaching down to scratch at the underside of Toothless’ jaw.

“Awh you don’t have to Hiccup, I don’t want to take you away from your work. I can handle a patrol on my own.” Bragi waved Hiccup’s small protest away. “I’ll whistle to the Night Terrors if something goes wrong. 

Satisfied with that Hiccup nodded and wished him good luck. 

“See you by sundown Hiccup.” Bragi called out over his shoulder playfully before he walked out of the clubhouse and started down the steps, tightening his axe on his belt. It would take him about two hours to just get to the other side of the island. Another three to patrol it. One to check any traps. Another two just to get back. It was perfect for him to get out on his own, away from the others so he could think and be himself.

The two hour trek to the south side of the island barely winded him. It was mostly beaches, pale sand stretched down the length of the island’s coast as far as the eye could see. Bragi loved it there. He dropped his things into the sand and joined his bag and axe, leaning back and lounging in the sun on the sand for a few moments.

Bragi heard a twig snap behind him. For a moment he thought that it was one of the gang coming up behind them with their dragons, having been told by hiccup where he was. Or maybe it was Heather coming to fight him. He peaked one of his eyes opened and froze. A familiar ginger head stared back at him, with mischievous green eyes framed by bushy brows.

“Dagur?” Bragi breathed softly as his mouth dropped open in surprise. Bragi took a second to rub his eyes until he saw kaleidoscopic patterns, before he pulled his hands away. Dagur was still in front of him, grinning with months worth of smell of the sea lingering on his skin. Bragi stood slowly, eyes scanning as far as he could see along the shoreline. There was no skiff in sight which meant Dagur had anchored a ship and swam right to shore.

“Bragi!” Dagur crowed enthusiastically before he ran forward and threw himself at the older Berserker. “I’ve missed you so much.” Dagur muttered into his ear, rubbing his hands up and down Bragi’s spine. Bragi buried his face into the crook of Dagur’s shoulder, inhaling the smell of salt and sweat.

“How did you get here? When did you get here?” Bragi exclaimed once he pulled away from Dagur to meet his eyes. The younger Berserker smiled before he gestured in the general direction of the ocean. 

“I had Jokul anchor off near a sea stack, he took the skiff down and I swam to shore from there. Been waiting a few days for you, you know.” Dagur explained softly as he scanned Bragi’s face. “We’d been patrolling the area for a while, searching for the island, ever since that boy, I knew you’d come eventually.” 

“I just wanted to check the Southern perimeter.” Bragi smiled. “I just had a feeling, didn’t know it would be you though.” His eyes softened and he leaned in, taking Dagur’s face in his hands to kiss him.

Dagur kissed back, his calloused fingers threading along the braids on the sides of Bragi’s head. He traced Bragi’s braid with his fingers before he clutched at Bragi’s shoulder blades. When Dagur pulled away, Bragi looked into his eyes, before he tugged Dagur in for a tight hug. 

“I’ve missed you something fierce.” Bragi said against the crook of Dagur’s neck. Dagur breathed out, and BRagi felt his breath against the shell of his ear. He pulled back, only to rub a thumb across Dagur’s cheek, before he pulled Dagur down onto the sand with him.

“It isn’t the same without you.” Dagur whispered fervently, before he pressed his forehead to Bragi’s. “Nothing is the same without.” Dagur’s eyes closed slowly. “Come home, Bragi.”

Bragi’s heart gave a dull ache at the words in his chest. He took Dagur’s hands in his and leaned his forehead against Dagur’s. “I will soon Dagur.” Bragi promised softly, meaning every word. “Soon we’re going to get what we want, and we can go home.” 

Dagur’s smile got brighter and Bragi relaxed in the sand while bumping shoulders with Dagur as they interlocked their fingers between their thighs. The sun shone down on them, as Bragi tipped his head back to feel it on his cheeks. Bragi told him about their patrol rotations, their schedules, their supply runs to Berk, before he sat back and let Dagur go over the information 

Dagur’s breathing was steady next to him. It was calm, perfect. Sitting together in since, their hands held together and nothing but the crashing waves and the breeze to keep them company.

“Shouldn’t be too hard for us.” Dagur said after a quiet moment. “If you can take out the ballistae at the clubhouse, our ships will have no trouble going through.”

“Hmm, give me enough warning and I’ll take down as many defences as I can.” Bragi murmured, leaning over to peck Dagur’s cheek softly.

Gods he’s missed Dagur so much. His lips lingered next to Dagur’s cheek, savouring his usual scent of sea salt and apples, with just the barest smell of Fire Root lingering at the base of his throat. Dagur turned and their lips met softly. It turned passionate quickly, Dagur placed both hands on Bragi’s shoulders and pushed him down into the sand to kiss him until he was breathless. Dagur slotted his hips against Bragi’s, sliding between his thighs as Bragi spread his legs to accommodate.

“Dagur.” Bragi gasped once the younger Berserker pulled away to stare down at him with deep blue eyes. A second passed, and then another, before Dagur’s pupils left only a ring of blue around his eyes and he ducked back in to kiss Bragi again, accompanied with a deliberate drag of his hips. Bragi moaned into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Dagur’s waist as the wind brushed against them. 

Getting sand in their clothes was the last thing on their mind, as Dagur wiggled a hand down between their bodies. Bragi gasped, and not for the first time, he let Dagur’s mouth distract him.

* * *

Bragi could hear the way that Dagur was panting, satisfied and deep as his mouth brushed the shell of his ear. They’d been sweaty and had sand sticking to them, so they jumped into the water for a swim, where they got distracted again by each other’s damp skin, then another hour later, Bragi had taken the spare blanket from his pack and laid it down so they could dry in the sun without getting sandy, again. 

Dagur kissed the spot underneath his ear and ran a calloused hand over the plane of Bragi’s stomach fondly. “How much time do you have left?”

Bragi made a small noise from where he had his eyes closed, his head leaning on Dagur’s shoulder, before he tilted his head to take a look at the sun, judging how far it had moved. “An hour.” He answered after a moment. “An hour until I have to start heading back, or I’d be missing dinner.”

“I’ll take the skiff out then.” Dagur muttered, mostly to himself, but also to put Bragi at ease.

“Hmm.” Bragi hummed, sated as he leaned his head back onto Dagur’s shoulder. “I wish you could stay.” He turned over and kissed Dagur softly. “It’s nice out here. We could settle down somewhere nice like this.” 

Dagur made a small noise of agreement against his lips, before he laid back down, wrapping an arm around Bragi. 

They laid down for a while longer, wrapped up in each other before Bragi finally pulled on his clothes with a discontented groan. He sat up and kissed the skin of Dagur’s shoulder as he slowly did the same.

“I have to patrol.” Bragi muttered with a small sigh. Dagur frowned, but got up to his feet. He leaned down and took Bragi’s face in his hands kissing him slowly. When he pulled away, he held out his hand to help Bragi up onto his feet.

* * *

Bragi had turned down Astrid’s invitation to come along while she pulled Heather away from both Snotlout and Fishlegs’ competitive flirting. Instead, he strolled over to the twins who were huddled together and muttering about their boar pit.

“Hey guys. Want to go for another round in the pit?” The twins perked up with wide smiles on their faces, before Bragi was being dragged down to the boar pit.

Out of all the things Bragi was expecting, being dragged out of the clubhouse towards the stables by Astrid, while he was somewhat exhausted by the boars and the twins, only to hear Heather propose a plan to go after Dagur was not what he expected. 

“We gotta go now. Dagur won't be out in the open for long.” Heather protested, looking among the other riders.

“Wait a minute. You want us to battle with Dagur and the Berserkers without Hiccup and Toothless?” Fishlegs said incredulously, his eyes going wide. 

“Guys, I wish Hiccup and Toothless were here, trust me. But they're not. And we can't wait. Dagur's ships have dragon-proof chains and grappling hooks.” Bragi huffed underneath his breath as Heather stressed her point “And the ships he's buying are even more powerful. But with all of us attacking at once, Dagur won't know what hit him.”

“Uh, I have to say any aerial assault of this magnitude would be foolish without Toothless. He's the most powerful dragon in our arsenal.” Fishlegs protested.

“Well, it's not like we need Hiccup and Toothless.” Snotlout started confidently, but his voice trailed off. “But it's nice to know that we have a Night Fury when things get hairy.”

“You heard Johann, Astrid. This is our last chance. Tell them.” 

“Well look, Heather-” Astrid began softly. 

“You, too? Just forget it. All that stuff about trust and having my back, I guess that was just talk.” Heather scoffed before she walked off. Bragi shifted his weight on his feet before he eyed Heather’s back. There was something familiar about her intensity for revenge that he couldn’t shake. The others turned and looked at each other worriedly, before they turned towards the copy of the map Heather left on the table.

Bragi encouraged the plan. It was doomed to fail from the start if they went in without Toothless. 

“Looks like it's just you and me, Windshear as usual.” Heather said softly to her dragon as they walked up behind her. She hadn’t noticed him or the others yet.

“Hey! If we're gonna do this, it has to be a capture mission, not a kill mission. Agreed?” Astrid called out, catching Heather’s attention. She turned her head to look at the blonde teen with a grateful smile on her face. 

“Agreed.

“We'll sink Dagur's armada, and drag him back to Outcast Island. Let him rot there.” Bragi’s heart clenched in his chest for a moment, thinking about Dagur going back to that place, before Heather responded.

“Okay.”

“Then we're with you.”

“You can thank me! I was the one who rallied these guys.” Snotlout but in with a grin on his face, pointing towards himself while he shot Heather a smile.

“Well, that's not really my recollection.

“Quiet, Fishlegs!”

“As soon as she left, your lips started to do that cute little quiver thing.” Fishlegs taunted while quivering his bottom lip to mimic Snotlout. 

“You quiet! That's a tic! It's a tic when I'm about to fight.” Snotlout yelped, jabbing his finger into Fishlegs’ chest.

“So, what changed your mind?” Heather asked as Astrid walked up to her.

“Hiccup.” Astrid smiled. Heather’s shoulders relaxed. Bragi darted his eyes to the map in Heather’s hand. “He would never want you to face Dagur alone again. And neither do I.”

“Well, I know right where Dagur is.” Heather waved the map.

Good. Then you won't need this. Now, Hiccup will be able to find us.” Astrid took the map from her before she pinned it to the door of the stable with a grin.

“So, what's your plan?” At Astrid’s gesture, Bragi joined her on the back of Stormfly, hefting his axe over his shoulder.

“Hit him when he least expects it.” Heather grinned and slung herself onto Windshear.

* * *

Bragi made his way over the rail with a quieter foot than the girls had expected from his frame. He knocked out the first Berserker they came across with a firm elbow to the man’s nose, before he caught his frame and laid him down without a sound. The girls together, took out the second and third man, before Windshear’s tail whipped from behind them to grab the last Berserker and knock him out.

Bragi pulled his knife from his belt as the girls snuck up on Dagur, Heather hooked her axe into the chain as Dagur flipped it back to throw and she yanked as hard as she could, throwing Dagur backwards across the deck.

He landed on his face, with a confused and indignant gasp, before his hands were quickly tied. He turned himself over, face red with anger. “Oh, no! What are you doing?” He demanded before he spotted Heather and Astrid standing over him. Dagur’s green eyes flicked over his head and they met Bragi’s.

“You two and  _ Bragi _ ?” 

“Surprise, Dagur.” Heather crowed.

“Two axes are better than one.” Astrid added, while glancing over at the unconscious Berserkers. 

“And twelve ships trumps two axes.” Dagur retorted. Bragi snorted and covered his mouth with his hand. Stormfly and Windshear crawled over the rail onto the ship, staring down at Dagur with their teeth bared. “I should've seen that coming.”

“Windshear, finish it!” Heather cried out suddenly. The dragon behind Bragi flicked its tail high above it’s head.

“No, Heather, don't! You promised us a capture mission.” Astrid protested, her eyes wide as they flicked between Dagur and Heather.

“Sorry, Astrid. I changed my mind. Dagur didn't  _ capture _ my village, so this ends here.” Bragi shifted the grip on his knife, ready to intervene when Dagur spoke up from the floor.

“If you kill me, Heather, you'll never know-”

“Save it for the gods.” Heather interrupted him and shoved a pouch into his mouth, muffling his protest. “Windshear.”

“Stop! Heather, stop.” Hiccup yelled from a distance, before he zipped in on Toothless’ back and pushed his way past Heather. Bragi tightened his grip on the knife, eyes sliding across the scene.

“Move, Hiccup!” Heather demanded.

“You don't understand.” Hiccup tried to say.

“You promised me there would be another time, and this is it!” Heather protested.

“Look. You told me your father gave you this. He did, but what are you doing?” Hiccup held out a very familiar horn towards Heather. BRagi knew where he had seen that before. It was always present in his memories, it used to sit on the mantle piece when he would visit Dagur as a child.

“This is my father's Chief Seal.” Hiccup claimed loudly.

“Stoick's seal is carved in my horn? What are you saying?” Heather lowered her axe. THe realization dawned on Bragi before Hiccup said another word. No wonder the green eyes were familiar, no wonder her intensity for revenge seemed so familiar. No wonder he fucking felt so off-put by her. It was Dagur’s  _ sister! _

“I'm saying, years ago, Stoick gave this horn to the Chief of the Berserker tribe, Oswald the Agreeable, as a gift for his newborn daughter.” Hiccup blurted out.

“But-” Heather tried to protest, looking a bit green around the edges as she glanced down at the horn. 

“You were that newborn, Heather. Oswald the Agreeable is your father. And he is also Dagur's father.” Hiccup explained, gesturing to the horn towards Dagur.

“She went missing when she was a baby.” Bragi finally breathed. Heather turned to snap her eyes onto him. Heather froze, fearful of the severely sincere look Bragi was giving her.

“No… No!” Heather shook her head. Bragi used to play with her. He used to put her in a crate and kick her down the streets with Dagur. He used to help Dagur put her to sleep when his father was busy. 

Dagur made a small noise with his mouth stuffed, wriggling on the deck of the ship. “Heather, Dagur is your brother. You can't kill him.” The ship rocked as the rest of their armada began to assemble, catapults hauling massive stones towards them. 

“We need to go.” Hiccup exclaimed, turning around to pull himself onto Toothless. It was time for him to move. Bragi lunged forward, rolling under the whip of Stormfly’s tail to slice his knife through the bindings on Dagur’s wrist, before he flicked it towards Astrid’s direction, to discourage her from moving.

“Bragi?” Hiccup looked confused as he turned Toothless to face them. “Bragi what’re you doing?” 

“Isn’t it funny Hiccup?” Dagur crowed enthusiastically as he grabbed his own mace from a nearby crate of weapons. “How you believed that Bragi could ever be loyal to anyone but me?” Bragi laughed, reaching over to drag Dagur down into a kiss.

Hiccup, Astrid and Heather seemed frozen, until the next catapult blast sent Dagur’s ship rocking next to another. Berserkers on the other ship began to prepare to board.

“You think I’d ever leave Dagur? He’s all I’ve had for years. He’d never hurt me.” Bragi growled, spinning his axe in his hands. 

“Gang we gotta go!” Hiccup shouted as the men were starting to cross the plank between ships. Heather was still frozen, staring at Dagur like her whole world had been turned upside down.

“Heather let’s go.” Astrid called out from Stormfly’s back.

“Oh come on sister.” Dagur drawled, holding his arms out. “I’ve the only family you’ve got left. Join me.” Heather snapped her head over to Hiccup, hovering with Toothless over the ship, while Astrid and Stormfly were attempting to hold back the men boarding their ship. 

Eventually, Heather got to her feet and lunged towards Windshear, glaring at Dagur as he furrowed his brows in confusion and yelled out. The Riders retreated, leaving Dagur to bark orders at his ship. Bragi stood with his axe still in his hands, feeling the familiar sway of the ocean beneath his feet.

“Dagur.” Bragi finally spoke, the sun was beginning to set over them as they changed their course. The Berserker High Chief turned around and looked, really looked at Bragi before his entire frame softened.

Bragi was dragged into a tight hug, holding tightly onto him as Dagur pressed his scruff against Bragi’s throat.

“Oh my Gods you don’t know how much I’ve missed you Bragi.” Dagur said against his throat. Bragi dropped his axe and embraced Dagur back, pressing his nose into Dagur’s hair and inhaling deeply.

“I couldn’t wait to come back to you. I’m sorry I failed.” Dagur pulled away at his words, looking at him with firm eyes. 

“I don’t care. You’re back with me and that’s all I need.” Dagur said firmly, before he hugged Bragi again. 


	5. you want more but you'll get nothing from me (but enemies)

Bragi woke up to lips on the curve of his shoulder, the cool ocean breeze cooling his skin. The cabin was cool due to the early morning air. Dagur continued to trail kisses down the curve of his shoulder softly, murmuring in their mother tongue. Bragi made a soft noise of affection, turning over to kiss Dagur in their bed.

Dagur traced a calloused hand down his chest, trailing the curves of his pecs before his fingers lingered at the waistband of his pants. 

“Bragi.” Dagur murmured softly as Bragi’s hands teased down to Dagur’s hips. “We have things to do today.” Dagur protested absent-mindedy. Bragi hummed in agreement but slid his hand underneath Dagur’s pants anyway. 

Ten minutes later, Bragi rolled out of bed, a hint more satisfied and sleep gone from his eyes. He stretched his back, cracking it as he raised his arms over his head and arched it. Bragi lazily walked over to the table where he had a map spread out, along with the captain’s log.

“If that isn’t a view.” Dagur whistled lowly before he got out of bed. The bed creaked behind him. Bragi felt Dagur wrap his arms around his waist, before the Berserker Chief propped his chin up on Bragi’s shoulder.

“We’re going to the Warken tribes today.” Bragi muttered quietly as he flicked through the log. “I have a meeting with them.” At Dagur’s frown, B ragi sighed and added. “Since Great-uncle Haggard got me involved with them.” 

Dagur pressed another kiss to his shoulder. “I'm sorry about Great-Uncle Haggard.” Dagur said quietly. 

“It’s okay.” And it was. As soon as Bragi had returned to Dagur’s Armada, he dispatched Haggard without a second thought, shoving his axe into the man’s back and dumping his body over the side of the boat. 

“How long till we’re there?”

“Not long. About two more hours since we’re on course.” Those two hours would go quickly. Then Bragi had to face Steinar and Haakan and their family, and that Gods be damned betrothal that he’d been forced into.

* * *

Two hours came and went. Dagur was by Bragi’s side as he sheathed his axe on his back and wrapped his winter coat tightly around his shoulders. The Warken tribe was almost always in the cold, Bragi hated it, even if Steinar was the only good part of the tribe. Dagur huffed in discomfort next to him, his own coat was heavy on his shoulders.

Steinar’s father wasn’t there to greet them, but the viking in question was. Steinar waved when he spotted Bragi on the docks, before he and his brother rushed down towards the docks to meet them.

“Steinar.” Bragi greeted with a polite nod of his head. “This is Dagur the Deranged, High Chief of the Berserkers, best friend and boyfriend.” He introduced. Dagur stepped forward with his chin high, staring at Steiner with wary eyes. “Dagur, this is Steinar, the man who helped me break you out, and his pain in the ass older brother Haakan.” 

Haakan only grinned at the description and laughed, reaching out with his hand for a handshake. Dagur eyed it for a moment before he took it.

“I hope your journey wasn’t too long.” Steinar said gently as he turned away and began to lead them towards the Warken Great hall. “The weather’s been getting worse, soon the seas are going to be too choppy for our sailors and traders.”

“Explains why your docks are so busy.” Dagur said from Bragi’s side. Bragi could feel Dagur’s fingers brushing against his own for reassurance as they walked.

Doon enough they made it to the Warken Great Hall. Steinar’s father was sitting in his chair with a frown on his face, before it brightened when he spotted Dagur and Bragi walking in with his sons. King Robbard was a large man, towering over Bragi, Dagur and his sons as he strode towards them. King Robbard had blonde hair done in dreads and pulled away from his face, sharp blue eyes and a large beard. Steinar had his looks, but Haakan was more like their mother, brown eyes and dark hair.

“There’s my future son-in-law!” Robbard yelled as he strode up to Bragi and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Now Robbard.” Bragi replied smoothly and firmly. “You know for a fact that I still have another year.” The king laughed and nodded. 

“I know, I know, but it would be nice if Steinar settled down with someone like you, rather than that girl he’s been seeing.” Robbard replied with a glance over to Dagur. “Is this him then? The one you said you were waiting for.” 

Dagur puffed up his chest at that, turning to meet Bragi’s eyes questioningly. 

“Yes Robbard, this is Dagur. Love of my life and everything I’ve needed in the world.” The words slipped out honestly and sincerely, enough that it took even Dagur by surprise. 

King Robbard bellowed out a loud laugh, before he gestured to the table in the Great Hall. “Isn’t that right! Well you must be tired from the journey! Let’s get some roasted boar into you, or yak? If that is what you’re fancying tonight.” Robbard steered Bragi towards the tables. Bragi gripped onto Dagur’s hand, tugging him along as they left behind Robbard’s sons at the entrance.

“Roasted boar, you planned that for my arrival didn’t you?” Bragi accused with a playful tone as he sat down and pulled Dagur into the seat next to him. Robbard sat down opposite of them, waving over to one of the cooks to bring the food over. 

“A way to a viking’s heart is his stomach!” The King claimed loudly. “If my son’s good looks couldn’t convince you, and clearly they can’t measure up to-” Robbard gestured towards Dagur. “Then maybe the delicacies could.” 

“Thank you for your hospitality Robbard.” Bragi nodded his head politely. The King returned the nod, before he stood from the table and clapped a hand onto Bragi’s shoulder once more. 

“I just remembered something I need to do.” Robbard said suddenly. “I’ll get either Steinar or Haakan show you to your room.” 

“I remember where it is, don’t worry.” Bragi waved him off before he gave the King a smile.

* * *

Dagur didn’t  _ like _ the Warken tribe. He didn’t like King Robbard, he didn’t like the eldest prince, Haakan, and he was a sure as all of Niflheim that Steinar was looking at Bragi in a way that he shouldn’t. After they’d had dinner, Bragi led him through the village before they came to a medium sized house with multiple rooms, similar to an inn but when he and Bragi walked in, it was clear that it was the Chief’s house.

“What was he talking about? Future son-in-law?” Dagur blurted out once the door clicked shut behind him. Bragi was still in the middle of removing his winter coat when he froze, before his shoulders slumped.

“You were on Outcast Island. Haggard caught me meeting with Steinar for information about you, I was hoping to gain the tribe as allies to take down Hiccup and Berk itself. Haggard snuck around behind my back and met with King Robbards.” Bragi began without turning around. His fists were clenched into the fur of his coat. “Haggard brokered a deal, my marriage to Steinar in return for safer trading routes to the tribe, and more information, including breaking you out of Outcast Island.” 

Dagur was about to reply angrily until he noticed the way that Bragi’s hands were shaking while they gripped onto the fur. “I didn’t know about it. Not until Steinar met me afterwards, I marched in there, into the great hall.” When Dagur searched what he could see of Bragi’s face, he saw that Bragi’s eyes were squeezed shut, tears already dripping from them, down his cheeks. “Yelled at all of them, threatened to beat the shit out of Robbard and demanded a trial by combat, something or anything. They relented and they gave me five years to free you and break the engagement.”

Bragi’s shoulders started to shake. “I gave them a big fuck you and told them that our alliance to fuck off to Niflheim. Told them I wouldn’t marry anyone but you.” Bragi lifted the coat to his face and pressed it into the fur, muffling what had to be a sob. Dagur softened, tension slipping out of his frame as he slunk over to touch Bragi’s shoulder softly.

“Bragi…” Dagur turned his best friend and boyfriend around, hands pulling the fur coat from his face to look at wet eyes and tears tracking down his cheeks. It wasn’t the first time Dagur had seen him cry, but the moments were far and few compared to the number of times Bragi should have cried. 

“I fucked up Dagur.” 

“I’m here, you can marry me you don’t have to marry him.” Dagur protested, gesturing wildly with one hand.

“The deal can only be broken by the original dealmakers.” Bragi grunted, shaking his head as Dagur took one of his hands. “And I killed Haggard for bad mouthing you once I was back with the fleet, I completely forgot that he had to be the one to break it.” 

“Then we find someone who can break it! According to Viking law, all we need is someone of high status, like a King or a Chief of similar status, to break the deal and bear witness to the wedding.” Dagur exclaimed. “We can do this Bragi.” 

“And who would do it? Robbard wants me to marry his son, you heard him. I’d be better than Ilya.” At Dagur’s confused look, Bragi elaborated. “She’s Steinar’s girlfriend, they’ve been together for a long time but Robbard doesn’t approve of her. Anyway, even if Robbard didn’t want me to marry Steinar! We still don’t have anyone who’d be willing to break the deal and bear witness to our wedding.” 

“We’ll find someone okay Bragi. I’m never going to let anyone marry you that isn’t me.” Dagur protested determinedly. He let go of Bragi’s hand and took his boyfriend’s face into his hands, bringing them close so he could lay his forehead against Bragi’s.

“I don’t want to marry anyone else.” Bragi murmured, blinking back the tears threatening to fall across his cheeks. Dagur rubbed his thumbs over Bragi’s cheeks, wiping the tears tracks before he pulled Bragi into a kiss.

“We have a year to do it.” Bragi said once Dagur pulled away.

“We do.” Dagur said with a low voice. He slid his hands down the length of Bragi’s back, before he squeezed at Bragi’s ass playfully. “So how about I show you that you’re mine.” Dagur suggested. Bragi’s pupils dilated, before he turned around to pull Dagur towards the bed and between his legs.

Getting out of their clothes was the hardest part. Bragi sniffled as his fingers fumbled with the clasp of his belt and the straps of Dagur’s bracers and armour. Dagur pulled his armour over his head and tossed it aside, before he dived down to leave a purple, oval-shaped mark on Bragi’s collarbone. “You’re marrying no one but me.” He muttered into Bragi’s throat.

  
  


* * *

The next morning came too fast, Bragi pulled on his winter coat and trudged through the thinly layered snow on the ground. The island was already covered despite the snow only just having fallen. Dagur followed behind him silently as they were being escorted towards the Great Hall to convene with the council about the betrothal. A part of him didn’t want to have the incoming conversation that Bragi knew was about to end in thrown and broken furniture.

King Robbard was already sitting in his chair, flanked by both Steinar and Haakan as they exchanged words with the other council members. The entire hall went quiet the moment Bragi and Dagur stepped into the room. Dagur seemed hesitant, as Bragi strode towards the table to take his seat opposite of Steinar. From his chair, Bragi gestured to Dagur to take the seat that was opposite King Robbard. 

“High Chief Dagur, Bragi. I hope the cold wasn’t too discomforting during the night?” King Robbard said as he leaned forward on his elbows. 

Bragi hummed in response, leaning on his elbows as he glanced at Dagur. “No, I barely felt it.” Bragi responded with a small chuckle, before he nodded an acknowledgement at Steinar and Haakan. “I’m sorry if we kept you waiting.” 

“No no, not at all, I was just explaining to the council that we were having an issue with your engagement to Steinar.” King Robbard leaned over to ruffle his son’s hair affectionately. “Of course, as you know the deal was brokered by your high chief’s great-uncle, it is unfortunate to hear about his death, but Steinar is adamant that the both of you are not intending on going through with the arrangement.”

“We expected as much.” One of the council members sneered from his seat. The viking narrowed his dark eyes towards Bragi. “Can’t expect honour from no good Berserkers.” 

Bragi narrowed his eyes with his own glare. “First of all, as soon as I came here, I told you that Haggard made that deal without consulting our fucking High Chief.” Bragi snapped while gesturing over to Dagur. “Secondly I told you I was never going to marry Steinar and I’m sure he’s told you the same.”

“Haggard had every right, he was acting high chief of your clan while his nephew was imprisoned.” Another council member argued.

“Well, technically, Bragi was supposed to be acting high chief.” Dagur intervened. His voice was tight. Bragi’s eyes darted over to him, spotting the tension in Dagur’s jaw as he ran a hand over his face. “The entirety of the Armada knew that in the event of my absence Bragi was acting high chief, the fact that my uncle Haggard disregarded my direct orders to have Bragi replace me if I was incapacitated should render this arrangement void. You can't have them marry when the arrangement was made under false pretenses.”

“The deal has already been brokered. It cannot be broken.” The third council member said firmly, although his eyes were apologetic as he glanced over to Dagur and Bragi. 

“You can’t force Bragi to marry me!” Steinar spoke up from his seat. Dagur made a gesture of agreement and leaned forward in his chair. 

“I understand there was an agreement for safer trading routes, along with regular shipments of food. Those things can still happen without the marriage. I’ll be happy to discuss another treaty that doesn’t whore out my boyfriend.” Dagur leaned his chin on interlocked fingers as he stared down the council members.

“I don’t know why you thought a Berserker would keep their end of a deal.” The first council member grumbled. It was clear that it was meant to provoke them, as Dagur shoved his chair back and stood.

“My Great-Uncle Haggard brokered that deal with bad intentions and in bad faith.” Dagur growled, daring the council member to say another word with his glare. Dagur planted his hands on the table. “Any Viking who thinks of honouring a deal born out of bad faith has no fucking honour.”

“King Robbard.” Bragi stood up. “You know for a fact I’m not going to honour this engagement. Either we come to a compromise, broker a new deal, or we will find allies elsewhere.” They needed their allies. Their armada may have been strong but they didn’t have enough ships to take on the Dragon Riders with Toothless in their arsenal, let alone the manpower to keep them under siege for more than a few days.

Dagur barely turned to look at him before Steinar stood up, his own chair tumbling over as he stepped around the table towards Bragi. “You need the allies.”

“I know that.” Bragi snapped, although he softened when Steinar raised his hands defensively. “But I won’t ally with someone forcing a deal that shouldn’t have even been made.”

“I won’t stand for it.” Dagur said firmly while crossing his arms over his chest. “We can and  _ will _ find allies elsewhere. Bragi.” 

Bragi stepped away from Steinar and the table, reaching out to take Bragi’s hand in his before they turned to leave the great hall. As they made their way out of the snow, Steinar stumbled out after them, tripping down the stairs before he called out.

“You won’t find enemies here Bragi!” Bragi paused and turned around to meet Steinar’s blue eyes. They were sincere, as his hands stayed by his sides. “You won’t. I’ll still be your ally even if they won’t.”

“Thank you. Steinar, really, thank you.” Bragi said, squeezing Dagur’s hand in his as Steinar looked over to Dagur.

“He loves you, you know. He really fucking loves you.” Steinar said as the council members started to come out of the Great Hall along with King Robbard and Haakan, lingering behind Steinar with disbelief on their faces.

“I know.” Dagur said sincerely, squeezing Bragi’s hand back. 

Bragi resisted the urge to flip off the council member that sneered about Berserkers as he turned his back on them, and practically dragged Dagur back towards the docks. 

On their ship, Dagur turned to face him, with sincere eyes and a soft hand on his cheek. Dagur brushed his thumb over the blue tattoos on his cheek, before he leaned in and pressed his forehead to Bragi’s.

“We’ll find other allies. Other people willing to take on Hiccup and the Dragon Riders.” Dagur promised softly. Bragi nodded, a miniscule movement as he pressed his forehead closer to Dagur’s. 

“And if we don’t… we get stronger until we can take them on ourselves.” Bragi replied, his tone was rough, but his eyes were soft as he looked into Dagur’s.

* * *

It took them another month to find the merchant that gave them the dragon proof chains they used to attack Heather with. The merchant had sold them a scroll of information, that lead them to a man that could help them. The merchant claimed he was a leader of a tribe of Dragon Hunters, well equipped to handle Hiccup and his dragon riders if they were to ally with him. With a pouch of gold delivered to his hand, the merchant set them a time and place to meet Ryker Grimborn.

Ryker Grimborn, in a way, reminded Bragi of his father. The man towered over both him and Dagur by several inches, he had bushy brows that made him look menacing as he frowned, and he was bald, but it only added to how fearsome he looked. The air around him was still, like it was afraid of shifting the wrong way lest it upset the large man. Bragi shifted his weight on his feet as he and Dagur approached the man sitting in a tavern at the Northern Markets.

Bragi sat down first, steeling himself against the dark look he earned from Ryker Grimborn. Dagur sat down next to him, ready to open his mouth when Ryker beat them to it.

“So you’re the ‘High Chief’ looking for allies.” The man said in a low, accented voice. “You’re just a boy.” Ryker commented. His voice was barely raised above the racket inside the tavern. 

Before Dagur could give a retort that would anger Ryker, Bragi slipped a hand onto his thigh and leaned forward. “We’ve been in charge of our tribe for a while. We need allies, we heard that you were the ones to come to when our enemies involved dragons.” 

“Dragons, eh?” Ryker looked interested as he swirled his ale around his tankard. “What kind of enemies would have dragons?”

Bragi and Dagur shared a look, before Bragi leaned an elbow on the table. “We’ll let you know if you’re interested in an alliance.” He offered up after a moment. 

“I’d have to have a few reassurances.” Ryker said, eyeing the both of them. “Viggo would like to hear about your situation before we made any decisions.”

“Of… course.” Bragi sat up straighter. “We’d be willing to pay of course, if you’d be interested. For use of any ships or weaponry.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Ryker mused before he downed the rest of his drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The tall man stood from the table without even disrupting the tavern goers around them and he disappeared out the back door. Bragi turned to look at Dagur, feeling his heart thumping in his chest.

“Who did you just get us involved with Bragi?” Dagur asked nervously, as their drinks finally arrived on a tray. Dagur lifted his to his mouth and chugged it, before he thunked the tankard back onto the table.

“Either we’ve just gained an ally…” Bragi muttered, taking a long drink out of his own tankard. “Or I’ve just bought us some competition.”

* * *

Ryker Grimborn got back to them after a week of anxious anticipation. They were once more, meeting in the Northern markets, however not at the same tavern. Their instructions brought them to a much shadier establishment. Bragi felt his heart in his throat as he and Dagur approached the dark, grey building with hoods pulled over their heads. Dagur was alert, eyes darting to all the shadowed corners and alleyways. 

Inside however, the tavern was dimly lit with a soft orange glow, giving a sense of comfort despite it’s outwardly dangerous appearance. Ryker was sitting with a few of his men, drinking and exchanging barbs and quips between them. The men were in the same uniform, with spiked helmets and red shirts. They went quiet as Dagur and Bragi approached the table. Ryker lifted his head from his tankard to eye the Berserkers, before he gestured to the two empty seats in front of him.

“First of all, before you offer anything. Viggo is intrigued by the both of you.” Ryker said with a curious tone in his voice. “We asked around about you two. War Chief at fifteen.” Ryker nodded at Bragi before he turned his attention to Dagur. “And you became High Chief a few months later after murdering your father.” 

Bragi shot a glance at Dagur from the corner of his eye. Dagur was as still as a stone, a neutral expression on his face as he crossed his arms over the table. 

“You’re pretty impressive. Two kids running an armada and a tribe all on their own. Viggo is curious about how you did it.” Ryker glanced between the two of them before he pulled a scroll from inside of his vest and handed it over to Bragi. “The conditions of our deal, if you’re amenable to it.” 

Bragi unfurled the scroll onto the desk and scanned his eyes over it, before sliding it over to Dagur. It outlined a tribute fee, the cost of the use of ships and machinery and weapons, along with the terms of the alliance, a reassurance that both tribes had a right to call on the other for assistance. The rest of the contract outlined meeting points and trading routes, how to get in contact it the Dragon Hunters.

The signature at the bottom caught his eye as he lifted his head to look at Ryker. It was a neat scrawl but it wasn’t Ryker’s name. Whoever this Viggo character was, he was in charge. 

“I’m going to need my own assurances.” Dagur muttered, fiddling with the tankard in his hand. “That these are the terms and they won’t be changed mid alliance.” 

"Nothing will be changed without Viggos permission first, and he demands meetings between both parties before anything happens." Ryker grumbled. "You'll have our word." 

"Good. Because if this arrangement brings any harm to Bragi, I won't care who you are, I'll make you wish, you  _ never fucking crossed me." _ Dagur slammed his hands into the tables after raising his voice. 

The other hunters jumped back at the table but Ryker gave them an amused smile and gestured to them to stand down. "No harm will come to your partner." Dagur relaxed as Ryker glanced at Bragi. "Or you." Ryker tacked on. 

"Thank you." Brag scanned the contract once more before he and Dagur both signed the bottom, next to the marked lines.

"Be at the docks tomorrow morning. we can load up weaponry and discuss the number of ships you'll be taking then." Ryker said while rolling up the contract and handing it off to a hunter, who obediently kept it away.

"We'll be there." Bragi assured with a hand on the table. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Dagur whispered into Bragi’s ear as they scanned the tavern floor. It was filled with shady characters that looked scarier than Ryker Grimborn, many of which were covered in scars and dark clothing.

With a nod to the Dragon Hunter and his men, Bragi and Dagur stood from the table to make their way out of the tavern, taking care to avoid trodding on any boots or bumping into anyone. Once they made it out Dagur let out a sigh of relief. 

“Thank Odin no one started a fight in there.” Dagur said after they’d made it a few steps away from the tavern. 

“Not confident you could have gotten us out of there?” Bragi teased with a soft smile. Playfully Dagur leaned over and shoved his shoulder, before taking his hand and linking their fingers as they trekked to the nicer part of the Northern Markets, back to the inn where they were renting a room for the meantime while concluding business with Ryker Grimborn.

“They’re an old tribe. They have money, power, they’re what we need.” Dagur finally said with a sigh. “They could break the engagement.” 

“I know, but don’t you think that what we’re doing is a bit dangerous, running around with men who could take us over in an instant?” Bragi gestured in the direction of the shady inn they had just visited. “Trying to challenge Berk now when half our Armada is still recovering from starving?” 

“Berk won’t know what will hit them Bragi. We’ll strike when they’re unawares, without Hiccup and the other Riders they won’t ever see us coming.” Dagur gripped onto Bragi’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “Dragon Hunters or no, I’m being careful with us, with you.” 

“You know I’d do anything to protect you.” Bragi took Dagur’s face in his hands and rubbed his thumbs over Dagur’s scar and tattoo gently. “Anything. If it means we allies with the Dragon Hunters, or we take down Berk and let them burn, then we do it together.” 

“You’ve been too good to me Bragi.” Dagur said softly, rubbing his hands over Bragi’s shoulders before he shrugged off his cloak and hung it on the coat rack next to the bed.

“I wish that it was a lot simpler for us.” Bragi muttered as he sunk down into the mattress. He fumbled with the clasp for his cloak, before he let it fall off the bed into a heap on the floor. “I wish my father wasn’t a bastard, I wish that Oswald didn’t go missing. I wish we could’ve just stayed at home and gotten married like we were supposed to when you turned eighteen, instead of you being locked up on Outcast Island.” Bragi grumbled as he pressed his elbows into the tops of his thighs.

Dagur sank down onto the bed next to him, pressing a soft kiss to Bragi’s jaw before an arm wrapped firmly around his shoulders. “I know.” Dagur soothed. “But we’re making something for ourselves now. We’re building something good now.” Dagur kissed his jaw once more before he shuffled further back onto the bed and dragged Bragi with him. “Let’s sleep, tomorrow morning is a big day for us.”

Bragi nodded with a small noise of assent, before he rolled over on the bed and face planted into his pillow. Dagur chuckled next to him before the blankets were tugged out from underneath his stomach with a grunt and they were thrown over both his and Dagur’s body affectionately. A kiss landed on his shoulder blade, before Dagur settled half on top of him and wrapped an arm across his back.

“Goodnight Bragi.” The younger teen cooed. Bragi blushed against the crook of his elbow and smiled, peeking at Dagur over his forearm as Dagur smiled back with soft eyes.


	6. we've got to get away from here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Bragi glanced between Dagur and the door, like he was afraid their parents would come out of the house to see what was wrong. Bragi’s knuckles were white around the wooden handle of the sword._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of child abuse, broken bones, head injuries and trauma.

He was just a child when his father and Mister Haraldson introduced Bragi to him. He might have been four, maybe five at the time. Bragi was a few years older than him, fiery red hair just like his own already down to his shoulders and braided back neatly. His face was pale and twisted into a frown. Dagur sat up in his chair as his father patted his back and told him to greet the older boy.

“Hi, I’m Dagur.” He held his hand out excitedly. It would be nice to finally play with someone that was closer to his age. The other kids in training were years older than him, they threw him around and he could barely keep up. 

“I’m Bragi.” The older boy scowled, flipping his braid over his hair as he glared up at his father. 

“Bragi’s going to be joining your classes because he’s been picking fights with some of the other boys.” Cnut Haraldson muttered over his son’s head. Bragi huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, bruises littered his forearms and his biceps. 

“They had it coming.” The taller boy muttered under his breath. It seemed that Dagur was the only one to hear him as their parents talked over their heads. Dagur held his hand out with more insistence.

“We can train outside, come on.” Bragi gave one glance over at his father before he took Dagur’s hand. Dagur dragged the other redheaded child out of their back door towards the training dummy his father had set up. 

He picked up a training sword and handed one over to Bragi, eyeing the bruises on the boy’s forearms as Bragi tested the weight of the wooden sword in his hands. They looked too big to be from the hands of the teens that he was training with. Dagur narrowed his eyes and stepped back onto the dirt patch that acted as the ring.

“Come on. See if you can knock me down.” Dagur invited as he backed up to one side of the ring. Bragi followed him, turning the sword in his hand, before he planted his boots firmly into the dirt. They circled each other for a quick moment, before Bragi lunged faster than Dagur expected.

He let out a soft oof as his back thudded into the dirt. Bragi stared down at him with his eyes wide with concern as his bottom lip quivered. Dagur pulled himself back to his feet, ignoring that Bragi looked terrified, before he lifted his sword again. 

“Again.” Dagur offered up. Bragi glanced down at the sword in his hand before he lunged forward. Dagur grunted as Bragi’s elbow caught his side while he dodged. He planted the butt of the sword into Bragi’s back, freezing when Bragi yelled in pain, stumbling forward before the older boy spun around defensively.

Bragi glanced between Dagur and the door, like he was afraid their parents would come out of the house to see what was wrong. Bragi’s knuckles were white around the wooden handle of the sword.

“Bragi?” Dagur said softly. Bragi jumped, startled when he realized Dagur moved closer while he was staring at the door before he responded with a huff and a scowl. Dagur stood next to him, eyeing the bruises on Bragi’s forearms before he inched closer and lifted the hem of Bragi’s shirt. The bruises that littered the length of Bragi’s back made his breath hitch. The clear imprint of a boot on Bragi’s lower back was enough to have Dagur dropping Bragi’s shirt in horror.

He spun Bragi around to face him, searching the older boy’s blue eyes despite the glare he was being given.

“You weren’t picking fights with them, were you?” Dagur asked softly. 

Bragi’s mouth parted but he said nothing, Dagur reached out and touched his wrist gently, prying the training sword from his hand. Silently, Dagur reached over and pulled Bragi into a hug. The older boy stiffened as Dagur wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

“I won’t let him hurt you.” Dagur whispered, rubbing his hands against Bragi’s shoulders. Bragi stood awkwardly in the hug, as Dagur continued to rub his shoulders gently. Slowly, after a few moments, Bragi slumped forward, his face buried into the crook of Dagur’s shoulder.

Dagur felt bile rise in his throat as a tear slid down his back and Bragi’s shoulders started to shake. 

They stayed outside until it was dark. Until Bragi’s eyes weren’t red anymore and Dagur’s shirt collar was no longer damp. Until their fathers had come out and barked at them to stop training and come inside. Bragi reluctantly let his father drag him away as Dagur stood next to his father.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Dagur called out to Bragi before they disappeared around the corner.

“I’m glad that you’re getting along with Bragi.” Oswald muttered. Dagur looked up at his father, brow furrowed and his bottom lip poked out in suspicion. “That boy needs to be reigned in. He’s a bit like you, but his father says he’s too wild, that he has a temper, maybe you can help him. 

That day only seemed to be the start of it. Dagur could remember the pure determination on Bragi’s face when they started training. Bowling over targets and training dummies like a proper Berserker should. He’d put his fair share of bruises and scrapes on Bragi, and Bragi had given back as good as he got. Their tempers could only rival each others and Dagur liked it all the more when he could make sure that the only bruises that were left on Bragi were the ones he gave him when they were training. 

  
  


* * *

He was eleven when Bragi broke a bone for the first time. They didn’t have training that day, and they were supposed to spend the day together, getting a new set of armour fitted for dragon killing classes. The pair of them were taller than the other kids their age. Bragi was already closing in on the other teens in height, and he wasn’t far behind. Dagur was just about getting impatient when one of the other boys from their classes came running, panting with concern wild on his face.

Dagur burst into the healer’s cabin, eyes frantic as he spotted Bragi sitting on a bench. There was an ugly blackened ring around his eye. Dagur blanched as he noticed the bone sticking out awkwardly at Bragi’s elbow. It didn’t break through skin but he had to bite back bile as he rushed over. Bragi took his hand the moment he was close enough. Bragi squeezed his hand until his knuckles protested as their healer reset his bones.

“Out!” Dagur screeched once Bragi’s arm was set and in a sling. The healers left the room almost instantly, fearing Dagur’s notorious temper. Bragi’s father was nowhere in sight as the older boy finally slumped forward against Dagur’s smaller frame and panted against his shoulder, tears rolling down his cheek without a sound. 

“Bragi.” Dagur’s hand hovered carefully over Bragi’s cheek, before he tilted Bragi’s face up to scan in with concern. “Who was it?” Bragi shook his head and used his good arm to wipe at the tears on his face.

“He hurt you.” Dagur barely started before Bragi started to pull himself off of the bench. “Hey wait, you need to rest!”

“I have to go home.” Bragi said with a hoarse voice. “Dad said I had to come straight home.” 

“You can’t. He’ll just hurt you again.” Dagur protested, gripping onto Bragi’s good wrist tightly.

“If I’m not strong enough to fight back, what use am I?” Bragi snapped, wincing as he jostled his arm, wrenching his wrist out of Dagur’s grip.

“You’re my friend!” Dagur argued. “You have my back, I’m supposed to be having yours.” 

Bragi stood still, eyes scanning Dagur’s frame before his whole body deflated. “You have my back a lot more than you realize Dagur.” Bragi offered up. Dagur felt his insides twist as Bragi stepped forward to hug him carefully. “I’ll see you at training tomorrow.” Bragi said softly, before his lips brushed against Dagur’s hairline in a quick motion.

Dagur touched the spot softly as Bragi slipped out of the healer’s cabin to trudge home. Dagur stared at the door long after he was gone, until the healer had come back in and tapped his shoulder, asking if he was okay.

He waved the man off before he trekked back home, ideas whirling in his head.

  
  


* * *

Bragi was there for him when his sister was born. He was barely nine and Bragi had just turned eleven but the two of them had taken to the baby girl with the protectiveness that a brother would have. Heather had wide green eyes and a tuft of dark hair on her head and it reminded him of his mom. 

Dagur adored his little sister, and he adored the way it gave Bragi an excuse to stay at their house more often. Their father was always busy. Treaties to look after, places to raid. They looked after her without a single complaint. Gods he loved her, she was small oh so tiny but she was going to be a strong Berserker, Dagur could see it in her eyes.

Then Heather disappeared one night in winter and Bragi took a hit from his father that was meant for him. 

Dagur could remember the scream he made, when he saw Bragi’s head crash into the wood of their dining table. Oswald looked petrified at his raised fist, speckled with blood as Bragi picked himself up from the floor where he had crumpled, spitting blood. The older boy stood himself right between Dagur and his father with blood on his teeth as he snarled, before he snatched up the sword left by the dining table to brandish it forward.

“Dagur. I didn’t mean it son.” Oswald fumbled, wiping his fist onto his coat as he reached out for his son. Dagur gripped tightly onto Bragi’s hand as he stared at his father, wide eyed with fear and anger.

“Don’t fucking come near him.” Bragi hissed, swaying slightly as he held onto Dagur’s hand tightly and brandishing the sword forward. He looked terrifying, veins visible on his forearms and his forehead as he stared down Oswald. 

It made it all the more easier when Bragi tugged him out of the house, stumbling on his feet but still determined to protect him.

Now that Dagur thought about it, it seemed that Bragi was always hurting, either to protect him or to protect someone else. Now that he’d thought about it, he and Bragi had only really had each other to lean on. His memories are filled with Bragi affectionately holding his hand and kissing his forehead. They’re filled with Bragi crying against his shoulder and only trusting him to see it. They’re him and Bragi and no one else.

* * *

Now 

Ryker Grimborn gave them three dragon proof winches and chains for each of their ships. It cost them a hefty sum, but as Bragi handed over the pouch of coin and eyed Dagur excitedly going over the mechanisms of the winches, it hurt less to hand over a good portion of their funds. 

“You’re clearly the brains of the operation.” Ryker mused in a low voice as he pocketed the pouch of gold. 

“Don’t  _ fucking  _ underestimate him.” Bragi snapped, whipping his head around from his view of Dagur to glare at Ryker, straightening to his full height. “Dagur’s smarter than you’d ever think.”

Ryker took a step back defensively with his palms raised in a placating gesture. The older Viking chuckled before he nodded. “Alright then. Feisty one aren’t you?” Ryker patted his hip and the pouch of gold, before he gestured to his men. They turned away. Ryker gave one last glance over at Dagur before he said to Bragi.

“I expect you not to be late on our monthly tributes.” Ryker warned.

Bragi raised an eyebrow before he nodded. “We won’t be late.” 

“Good.” With that, Ryker turned away and left them to their ships. One pouch of gold lighter, Bragi strode across the dock and stepped over the rail onto the ship. Dagur excitedly came up to him, laughing with his eyes wide and almost hysterical.

“Look at all these weapons! New catapults! Ballistae! We’re going to take down Berk and the dragon rider’s so easily now!” Dagur pumped his fist in the air with another round of excited laughter. 

“We’re attacking Berk in two days. We have some time to linger if you want.” Bragi offered up. It would take them less than half a day to sail to Berk from the Northern Markets. Dagur perked up and grabbed Bragi’s forearm, dragging him towards the docks.

“There’s a stall I saw, with armrings and pendants. I want to see them.” Dagur said as Bragi did his best to keep his footing while Dagur dragged him along the docks and back into the marketplace.

Dagur was excitable as he flicked from one shiny armring to another. They were gorgeous and beautifully crafted, but even Bragi had to admit that the price tags on them were generous, enough to make him wince. Dagur picked up a pendant made of dark metal, it was sleek and looked like onyx as he turned it over in his hands, before he rubbed a thumb over the small purple gem inlaid into it. 

“How much for this?” Dagur asked.

“Dagur that’s way too expensive.” Bragi muttered under his breath as he blanched at the price the trader responded with while he fingered his handlebar moustache. 

“My finest haul from a dastardly crew of pirates. Gave me that along with a few other things for their lives.” The trader described as he gestured to a few other pendants and armrings.

“Take it down to fifty and I might consider it.” Dagur said after a moment, staring down at the pendant as he held it in his hands.

“Sixty five.” The trader responded quickly. 

“Fifty five and I’ll let you keep your head.” Dagur retorted, lifting his head to glare at the trade, finally looking up from the pendant. With a small whimper, the trader raised his hands defensively and backed away from the front of his stall with a nod. “Good.” Dagur said firmly before he reached for his own pouch of gold to pay the man.

“Dagur that was expensive.” Bragi hissed once they walked away from the stall. “Why’d you get that? I’m sure somewhere else could’ve had something cheaper.”

Dagur chuckled, before he pulled Bragi aside from the road to show him the pendant. He hadn’t gotten a good look at it in Dagur’s hands but now that he’d seen it. It had a Skrill emblazoned into the dark metal, it’s eye the small purple gem that Dagur rubbed his thumb over. 

“Dagur that’s…” Bragi couldn’t find the words to describe the feeling he got from looking at it. It felt like pride, home. 

“I want you to have it.” Dagur reached up as he spoke, to take the braided leather cord around his throat. He pushed the metal loop apart with his thumb, before he slipped it onto Bragi’s necklace. “I want you to wear it.” 

“You don’t have to spoil me Dagur.” Bragi reached up to touch the pendant reverently, before he met Dagur’s green eyes. They were wide and soft and nervous. Bragi softened and leaned forward to hug him. 

“I want to. You’re supposed to be mine. What use is it? Being a Chief and not being able to spoil you.” Dagur retorted, but his neck, cheeks and ears were red. 

“Dagur, I love you, you know I do, more than anything in all of Midgard. Really, more than anything.” Bragi insisted when Dagur ducked his head to hide his blush.

“I know.” He muttered as he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “You’ve proven it so many times.” 

* * *

Dagur dragged him back to bed, sans their clothes and only the metal pendant between them as Dagur pressed him into the bed while slotted between his legs. The vial of oil was balanced precariously on the pillow next to Bragi’s head as Dagur wrapped a hand around both of their lengths, pumping it with a slow rhythm. They pressed their foreheads together, breathing in the same air as Bragi gasped and Dagur moaned softly.

“Fuck, Dagur. Fuck, fuck!” Bragi barely managed to spit out before Dagur was kissing him, thrusting against his cock and the grip of his hand. 

“I want to fuck you, right now.” Dagur almost whined against Bragi’s mouth, letting go of their cocks to fumble with the vial of oil with his slick hand, drizzling it all over Bragi’s hips, cock and thighs, before he spread it around with his hands, uncaring of the mess.

“Do it!” Bragi arched his back, dragging one leg up to prop against Dagur’s shoulder as Dagur’s clean hand pushed the other apart. 

“Can you take it?” Dagur paused for a split second as he slicked his cock over Bragi’s hole, smearing the oil across it. 

“Just  _ do it _ Dagur  _ please! _ ” Bragi demanded while trying to thrust his hips against Dagur’s cock. Dagur made a small noise that sounded like a snarl before he lined himself up and started pushing in slowly, listening to Bragi’s breathy moans as he kept going until the head of his cock pushed past the first ring of muscles.

“Ohhh fuck.” Bragi keened, dragging his nails along the length of Dagur’s back as he threw his head back. “Dagur come onnn, fuck me please, before I  _ die _ !”

Dagur sunk in slowly despite his keening, keeping one hand pressed into the pillow by his head, before he gripped Bragi’s thigh with firm fingers. “Gods Bragi, fucking Gods, we haven’t done this in a while Bragi, hold on.” 

Bragi barely had time to respond before Dagur’s hand slipped up his thigh and gripped his hip instead. Dagur started to thrust, cursing and moaning under his breath as his forehead dropped against Bragi’s. Bragi grazes his lips over Dagur’s own, then his cheek and then Dagur’s temple as he’s shoved up the bed by Dagur’s thrusts.

Despite it being a while neither of them last very long. After ten or so minutes of Bragi keening with his hands wrapped around Dagur’s shoulders and Dagur panting against his throat, Dagur spilled inside him and dropped his weight onto Bragi’s stomach, smearing the mess of cum that’s already there. 

  
  
  


* * *

Their attacks on Berk were quick and efficient. Catapults were fired in quick succession from a far, enough to catch Berk off guard right when they least expected it. the village caught fire, flames billowed up into the air as they continued their seaside assault. 

They didn't let up, not until Stock had taken up Skullcrusher and dove the enormous Rumblehorn towards them in an attempt to stave off anymore catapult fire. Spotting the terrible terror as a speck in the distance, Bragi tugged on Dagurs forearm and hissed towards him. 

Dagur gave the order to retreat as Berk began to come alive, swarming with its people trying to put out the fire, specks among a blaze. The ship groaned beneath their feet as it turned to retreat, gaining speed with their ballistae trained back towards Berk. 

In the distance, a smaller boat, a single manned skiff able to be sailed alone at sea tread quickly along water, trailing behind the tiny dragon.

The work was done for them. 

The riders were down two of their team, Astrid preoccupied on Berk while Hiccup didn't seem to stray from her side. Only having three riders defending the Edge despite the knowledge that they were hanging around, waiting. They lacked the forces to maintain a strong defence against against a full frontal assault and both he and Dagur knew it

Bragi stood at the helm of the skiff that was bringing them to the Edges singular dock despite Dagur’s protest at him leading the front line. He was silenced with a firm glare from Bragi eventually. Bragi felt his chest tighten despite the determination that coursed through him. Making Dagur proud was his motivation. Building a future for him and Dagur even moreso. 

The twins zipped past, dodging the boulders from the catapults and barely missing the flaming arrows heading their way. Bragi narrowed his eyes up at the sky as Meatlug spiralled from a boulder to her wing. A part of him felt relieved that it wasn’t a flaming arrow, but still, he laughed boisterously as they rowed closer towards the Edge. He heard Fishlegs yell as the next round of boulders caused the riders to fall back. 

“Hold steady.” Bragi called out to his men as they approached the docks. The Night Terrors weren’t on their perch as the skiff pulled up to the dock. There was barely a response as the first set of Berserker’s bounded up the stairs to the docks. There was no sign of them as they continued their assault on the training in dome and the rest of the Edge.

“Bragi, our orders sir?” Jokul asked from behind him, echoing the sentiments of their men.

“Stay sharp, keep an eye out for night terrors and wild dragons as well as the riders and their dragons.” Bragi said while scanning the sky and the cliffside of the Edge. There was the familiar whistle of Toothless zipping through the sky, but as Bragi spun around, he couldn’t spot the Night Fury in the darkening sky of the sunset above them. 

Their first assault split into two groups, one scouting further up while Bragi, Jokul and three others prowled the docks. They had barely crept along the first set of stairs when the whistle of Toothless’ dive caught their attention, along with the sudden cacophony of dragon fire that suddenly filled the air. 

The silence of their assault was filled with screams and crashes. The first group of hunters and Berserkers retreated, ducking underneath a fire blast. 

“Jokul, Sigurd, take the left flank!” Bragi ordered from dock, pulling his axe from his belt and jogging up the dock. “You,” Bragi pointed at the other Berserker with him. “With me, we’re scaling the cliff and getting to the dome.” They scaled up the first level of the cliffside, coming face to face with Chicken cowering behind a barrel, hiding from their archer’s assault.

Bragi had barely any time to react, reaching forward for Chicken before a battle cry forced him to jolt away. He lifted his head to see his man thrown from the stairway by Tuffnut, weaponless and fury in his eyes.

“Bragi!”

“Tuff.” Bragi hesitated, eyeing Chicken who was still cowering and then Tuffnut who was watching him with his hands raised, waiting for him to strike.

“You lead him right too us.” Tuffnut exclaimed as he lunged forward to pick up Chicken and pull her further away from Bragi.

“It wasn’t me.” Bragi defended. He lowered his axe slightly and met Tuffnut’s eyes. “He followed the terror after we sent a ship to Berk. Used it to confirm the Edge’s position. He knew all along.” 

Bragi could hear more of his men thundering below them, ready to be his backup. “I won’t fight you Tuff, I can’t.” Bragi said loudly, gesturing with his axe. “I’ll slow them down. Go.” 

Tuffnut barely hesitated, leaving one last lingering look towards him before he hugged Chicken close to his chest and ran up towards the dome.

“Bragi!” Jokul called out from behind him.

“He grabbed the chicken and ran.” Bragi explained, feigning being out of breath as he stared out towards the ships from the platform. Several were sunk, others burning as Hiccup and the other riders continued their assault.

“We won’t be able to sustain bout a frontal ground assault and a sea assault.” Jokul said from his right. Bragi nodded in agreement and brought his fingers to his mouth, whistling loudly to signal the other Berserkers who were making their way up the sides of the cliffs and the stairs. 

The Berserkers were already loading up into the skiffs and returning to the remaining ships when a horn sounded from one of their ships, signalling the arrival of more dragon riders.

“Bragi, we’re outnumbered.” Jokul said while spinning to face him. 

“I know that.” Bragi snapped at him. “Get the rest of the men to the ships, don’t lose any if we can.” He barked out the order. “I’ll bring up the rear. Go!” What was left of the men that had stormed the Edge’s dock retreated with Jokul, urged by Bragi following behind them, taking shots with his crossbow and deflecting whatever was thrown back in his direction as best as he could with his axe.

Once they’d reached the ships, he passed his axe over to Jokul and he took aim from the rear, aiming up at the sky and barely landing his shots.

“They’re out of range sir.” A Berserker, Sigurd, said from behind him. “We cannot assist until we’re on the ships.”

“Then get a damn move on!” Bragi shouted before he pushed his way through his men to take up one of the oars. He began rowing as the archers took their positions on the edges of the skiff, hauling them towards what was left of the dozen ships he and Dagur had brought with them.

* * *

The force retreat from Dragon’s Edge hit them hard. They were down half the number of ships they had brought with them. Lost about a quarter of their men to dragon fire. They regrouped at an island near a port belonging to the Dragon hunters. To make matters worse, his marriage to Steinar was still looming over them unless they could come up with a solution. Inside an inn on the island, Bragi sighed as he sat down on the edge of his and Dagur’s shared bed, before he rolled his aching shoulders and pulled off his boots. He turned them over in his hands before dropping them to the floor and toeing out of his socks, stretching as he flopped back onto the bed and stared at the wooden ceiling above him. 

Dagur was in with Ryker at the large building that caught their eyes when they had arrived. Pseudo Hunter headquarters. Dagur was probably screaming and yelling, or deathly quiet with a cynical tone in his voice, Dagur was good like that sometimes. Bragi sighed and scrubbed his palms over his face before he closed his eyes and let himself sink into the mattress. He should be with Dagur at the moment, but his limbs ached and his chest was tight.

A sudden sound of yelling jolted him out of what had to have been him falling asleep on the bed. What had to be the sunset streamed in through the windows as he scanned the room. The door slammed open, Dagur strewing his pack and weapons off his person as he entered, making a racket and cursing at the top of his lungs.

Bragi rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he covered a yawn with his hand, moving off the bed to meet Dagur in the middle of their room. 

“Dagur.” He murmured softly, sleep still heavy in his voice. “What’s wrong?”

Dagur’s face softened immediately and he took Bragi’s face into his hands, meeting Bragi’s eyes softly and rubbing a thumb over his cheekbones, tracing the line of his tattoos. “Hello pumpkin.” Dagur greeted Bragi softly before he leaned in to press their foreheads together. “Nothing’s wrong? Did you fall asleep?”

“Hmm.” Bragi hummed and lifted a hand to place it on Dagur’s chin, rubbing his thumb over Dagur’s cheeks before he nodded. “Was waiting and I think I fell asleep. I’m tired.” Bragi leaned in and nudged the tip of his nose against Dagur’s before kissing him softly. “Also something is wrong.” Bragi added once he pulled away. “I could hear you yelling before you came in.” 

Dagur sighed and pulled away to rub the back of his neck, before he met Bragi’s eyes again. “Ryker knows about Steinar. Says Viggo would know a way to annul the arrangement with the Warkens.”

“But?” Bragi prompted.

“But he says he doesn’t know what price Viggo will demand.” Dagur said as he deflated. His shoulders slumped and he reached out to pull Bragi close. “He doesn’t know what price we’ll have to pay to remove the engagement.” 

“We can’t put ourselves at another tribe’s mercy. Our men won’t stand for it.” Bragi huffed while he pressed his face into Dagur’s shoulder, muffling his voice slightly as he hugged Dagur. They stood there for a moment, holding each other close before Bragi finally pulled away, scrubbed at his face and took a deep breath.

“They could help us.” Dagur said, hesitantly as he took Bragi’s hands in his. “They could get rid of the arrangement for once and for all.” 

“You’ve heard what the Hunters have said about their leader. Viggo doesn’t take kindly to being weak.” Bragi rubbed the back of his neck. “If I’m being honest with you Dagur, I’m scared of what we’ve heard of him." 

"I won't let anything bad happen to you Bragi.” Dagur whispered genuinely, holding Bragi’s hand in his. “Never.” 

“I know. Dagur I know that, I trust you.” Bragi said softly in response and reached out to hug Dagur. “I’m just  _ scared _ .” 


	7. your enemies whisper, so you have to scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (i know about whispers, i see how you look at my sister)
> 
> _Her eyes lifted from the floor to meet Bragi’s eyes, they widened, before they softened and she gave him a soft smile. Dagur let her go and grinned at her, before wrapping an arm around Heather’s shoulder to direct her over to Bragi._
> 
> _“Bragi! Heather wants to be a Berserker!” Dagur’s eyes lit up like a child’s at snoggletog, it made Bragi want to melt. Bragi gave Dagur a fond smile before he reached out to slip his hand into Dagur’s._
> 
> _“That’s great Dagur.” Bragi said softly before he looked at Heather. “I’m glad you decided to come home Heather.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> timeline notes: Sverri was born before Heather was taken and died when he was about 9 months old, a couple months after Heather disappeared. I headcanon Heather to be younger than the other riders because in her flashback when she’s holding her dad’s hands, Dagur looks/sounds like he’s around 10 maybe 12 and realistically she could be between 4 - 6? I headcanon that she was also taken when she was about four or five. Enough time for her to understand who her parents were but not enough to remember much about them. 
> 
> Heather was taken when she was 5, Dagur was 12 about to turn 13, Bragi was 15 and soon after had to kill his father.  
> Current timeline; Dagur is 21 about to turn 22, Heather is 15. Bragi is 24

Nine Years Ago

The first thing he had done when Dagur had shaken him awake was panic. Dagur had been staying with him in the empty house that barely felt like a home for the past few months, so much so that it became a routine for the both of them to come home to each other. So Dagur shaking him awake had him reaching for the axe next to his bed. He pried his eyes open only to see that it was still dark outside, barely any light filtering in from the moon outside the window.

“Dagur what the fuck? It’s early.” Bragi complained, scrubbing his free hand over his eyes. 

“Bragi. My father’s gone. I went by after the meeting. He’s gone. His things are gone, his winter coat and his hooded cloak are gone too.” Dagur muttered frantically grabbing onto his shoulders. Bragi sat up, shaking Dagur’s hands off of his shoulders so he could swing his legs out from under the covers.

“Are you sure?” Bragi kept his eyes on Dagur as he slipped his bracers on.

“The house is empty!” Dagur exclaimed. “Bragi I don’t know what to do.” The younger teen almost wailed, eyes frantically scanning the older teen’s face. “What if someone sees that he’s gone. Great-Uncle Haggard would freak out! He… He could try to take my High Chief-hood from me! Bragi?!”

“Dagur, Dagur calm down.” The older teen gripped onto Dagur’s shoulders and tugged him close to look Dagur in the eye. “I’ll deal with this alright, just wear your armour, bring your axe and come with me.” 

It took a while to set things up the way that didn’t make the both of them look nervous, but by the time the village woke, Bragi had Dagur sitting in his father’s chair as Great-Uncle Haggard and the council walked into the arena, grumbling to themselves and calling out for Oswald to greet them. 

“Dagur?” Great-Uncle Haggard exclaimed, eyes darting between Bragi and Dagur carefully. “What are you doing, get out of your father’s chair.” The older viking snapped. “Where is he anyway? There’s to be a meeting.”

Dagur picked at his nails with a knife from his belt, his axe leaning against one arm of the throne while his legs lounged over the other. “My father’s retired.” Dagur replied coolly, before he gave a small glance over at Bragi. “Retired, taken his things and left Berserk. I’m in charge now.” 

Great-Uncle Haggard narrowed his eyes at Dagur before he scoffed. “You barely know how to lead boy, now get off that chair.” 

“I’m the son of Oswald the Agreeable.” Dagur raised his voice as he sat up from his father’s, his, throne. “I may have not approved of my father’s kindness, but that will be changing now that _I’m_ in charge.”

“And what about you?” Great-Uncle Haggard tracked his eyes over to Bragi with his arms firmly behind his back. “I suppose you’re not going to have any protests against this.” 

Bragi shot the older viking a deadly grin before le leaned an arm onto the throne and grinned, his chin an inch over Dagur’s hair. “I’m perfectly fine with where Dagur is.” Bragi said slyly. Great-Uncle Haggard huffed, before he raised his hands up in surrender and lowered into a bow. 

“Then.” He said with obvious distaste in his voice. “All hail our new High Chief, cracker of skulls, slayers of beasts, Dagur the Deranged.”

  
  


* * *

Now 

They turned down Rykers offer for Viggo to annul the arrangement between him and Steinar, or at least they told him not to approach Viggo yet. They couldn’t leave their tribe at another's mercy again. They couldn’t leave themselves at anyone else's mercy not after what they’ve been through. Bragi was genuinely afraid of the stories he heard about Viggo, when he was making friends with the Dragon Hunters aboard Rykers ship. 

They only spoke to him when Ryker wasn’t on deck, and only in hushed whispers when they were certain. 

“He’s ruthless.” One hunter whispered to him after he asked in a quiet voice.

“Never met anyone so cunning.” Said another.

“Knew someone that stole from Viggo and got caught, they were never seen again.” 

“Heard he fed someone to a dragon.”

“Saw him feed someone to a whispering death.” 

And the last defining fact that left sweat beading on the back of Bragi’s neck as he stalked below deck, afraid of the shifting shadows. 

_“Even Ryker’s the slightest bit afraid of him.”_

Dagur had noticed how shaky he was once he’d put his axes away and had slipped into bed after he was relieved from watch. Calloused fingers touched his shoulder softly, tracing his scars and tattoo before they trailed down his arm. 

“What’s wrong pumpkin?” Dagur asked softly as he pressed his chest to his back. Bragi felt Dagur’s breath against the shell of his ear as Dagur hugged around his stomach and pulled him close, before Dagur kissed his shoulder to soothe him. 

“Been asking the hunters about Viggo. The shit they’re saying Dagur.” Bragi shivered despite Dagur at his back and the blanket pulled over the both of them. “The shit they fucking said, I don’t think we should have made this treaty.” Bragi turned over to meet Dagur’s eyes in the dark. “They could hurt us.” Bragi stroked the side of Dagur’s face softly, over the scar on his cheek. “He could hurt you.” 

“Bragi we need this. We need this to take out Hiccup and Berk once and for all.” Dagur said with his arm still wrapped around Bragi. “I know what we’re hearing is scary but I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Dagur, Viggo isn’t Hiccup, he’s not some teenager, he’s not a dragon rider. He’s a chief we know nothing about, what if he’s stronger than us.” Bragi’s fingers hovered nervously over the crook of Dagur’s elbow. 

“I know, but I won’t let anything happen to us, or our tribe.” Dagur said determinedly. Fimly set in his decision, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Bragi’s. “I promise.” 

* * *

Heather’s appearance came as a shock to all of them. Mostly Dagur though. She had swooped in low on Windshear with her face covered and was almost shot down by Ryker when Dagur had called a ceasefire as she landed on the ship. “Don’t fire, that’s my sister!” 

Despite the crossbows pointed in hers and Windshear’s direction, Bragi’s included, Heather slid off of Windshear’s back and pulled the hood off of her head, while holding her palms up in a gesture of surrender. “I’m not here to hurt anyone!” She called out. “I’m here to join my brother.” 

Windshear growled despite Heather’s non-threatening stance, arms raised in a sign of surrender. She turned to hush her dragon, before she looked over towards Dagur. 

“Dagur please. We’re family.” She pleaded. Bragi glanced between them, he didn’t trust her, not entirely, before he took a step back, letting Dagur take the lead. It was his sister, his decision. 

* * *

A part of him was elated that Heather’s back. Bragi wants to know the baby that he and Dagur practically raised, but a little voice inside his head that sounded suspiciously like his mother warned him about Heather’s mistrust and hatred towards Berserkers. Dagur stepped forward to hug Heather. She barely flinched but hugged Dagur back.

Her eyes lifted from the floor to meet Bragi’s eyes, they widened, before they softened and she gave him a soft smile. Dagur let her go and grinned at her, before wrapping an arm around Heather’s shoulder to direct her over to Bragi. 

“Bragi! Heather wants to be a Berserker!” Dagur’s eyes lit up like a child’s at snoggletog, it made Bragi want to melt. Bragi gave Dagur a fond smile before he reached out to slip his hand into Dagur’s.

“That’s great Dagur.” Bragi said softly before he looked at Heather. “I’m glad you decided to come home Heather.” 

* * *

Surprisingly, Ryker’s suspicion towards Heather was harder to dissuade than his own. Bragi found himself in Ryker’s cabin hours later, once Dagur was instructed to show Heather to where she would be staying aboard the dragon hunter’s ship. Windshear was politely kept away from the other hunters but not in a cage, left up on deck.

“She’s a dragon rider! The very people you hired us to fight!” Ryker slammed a fist onto the table he was leaning against, uncrossing his arms from his chest, finally breaking the statue still stance he was in. 

“She’s not one of them. She’s Dagur’s sister, she’s been alone for most of her life. You are not touching her or her dragon!” Bragi protested. “Berserkers are bound by loyalty and blood, to their chief and tribe. She’s one of us she won’t betray us!” 

“You just said she was alone all her life!” Ryker’s eyes widened as he gestured to the ceiling.

“Heather is Dagur’s blood! Ryker, there’s loyalty to family! You of all people understand that.” Bragi argued. It was a risk to make an assumption about Ryker and Viggo's relationship, but it paid well. Ryker straightened his back and crossed his arms over his chest with a reluctant and resigned huff.

“If she betrays us, I’m holding you accountable.” 

“If she betrays us I’ll deal with her myself,” Bragi retorted quickly. “But Ryker, let Dagur have his sister, please."

“Alright.” With a nod, Ryker let him leave the room. With the door closed behind him, Bragi let out a deep breath. Ryker will take his head if Heather betrays them, he is a viking of his word. The risks outweigh Dagur's happiness. Bragi sighed. What he’d give to be a teenager with Dagur again? Where Dagur's happiness outweighed all risks. Where he had control over the situation.

* * *

The dragon hunters didn’t like Windshear. Heather’s sudden alliance with them meant that there was a dragon roaming the ships unshackled while Dagur tried to catch up with Heather. The dragon hunters were visibly disturbed, maybe even afraid despite Windshear’s mostly non aggressive behaviour. 

“Bragi!” Bragi looked up from the map in his hands, the wind blew his hair into his face before he spotted Dagur dragging Heather behind him across the deck. Bragi rolled up the map before he grinned and relaxed his shoulders.

“Dagur.” Bragi greeted his boyfriend with a soft smile before he reached out to hug Dagur. Dagur hugged back firmly before he pulled away and launched into a ramble.

“-o you remember how old we were when we put Heather in a wagon and wheeled her across the village.”

“Not really Dagur.” Bragi scratched the back of his neck with the hand that was holding the map. “My memory from back then is pretty bad.” Constant head traumas from training and his father were to blame. 

Dagur frowned for a moment, looking at Bragi with apologetic eyes before he shook his head and changed the subject. “That’s fine, remember when Heather was born? I want to tell her about how cute she was as a baby.” Dagur seemed a hundred times more excitable the moment Bragi nodded.

“Yeah I remember you holding her.” Bragi turned to look at Heather, who gave him an awkward and shy smile. “You reached up and grabbed his nose,” Bragi gestured with a tilt of his head at Dagur. “And you pulled it as hard as you could.” 

“Cutest baby Berserker I’d ever seen… second to Sverri of course.” Dagur added as he reached out for Bragi’s free hand.

“Sverri?” Heather piped up in curiosity, turning her green eyes towards Dagur. Bragi felt his heart clench, she looked so much like Dagur with that expression on her face. 

“Oh he was… My little brother, he died a few months after he was born.” Heather’s face fell before she began to open her mouth, probably to apologize. Bragi shook his head and interrupted her before she could. “It was after you were taken, and the circumstances around his death were probably… unavoidable.” Bragi said while gritting his teeth. “Don’t worry.” 

* * *

3 months later 

  
  


It was official, she was now a Berserker. Heather found herself included in a lot more of Bragi and Dagur’s schemes and hand in hand with that, their company. Her brother was a lot smarter than he let others let on, while he was impulsive, he made up for it by being an incredible strategist and an accomplished warrior.

Bragi, on the other hand, was as he appeared. He was the serious one out of him and Dagur, but he was also more open about his affections. Heather noticed straight away that when he was around Dagur, he was fond, kind and dared she say it, even sweet. His gruff exterior from the Edge vanished when he had an affectionate arm around Dagur’s shoulder.

Her curiosity piqued one night, when she walked down the corridor towards her room that they promised her on their ship. The first patrols on deck had ended, the Berserkers accompanying her for the first patrol were replaced with a new set. Windshear was resting above deck, comfortable since she made sure of it. Ryker had gone with a different ship and Vorg to prepare for their arrival at the next port, and Dagur and Bragi were below deck, supposedly asleep after completing their errands as chief and berserker general.

Halfway down the corridor, the door to Bragi and Dagurs room was ajar, whether by accident or it was intended, she didn't know, but she stopped by it and peered inside. 

Bragi was sitting up in bed, his head buried in his knees and his arms wrapped over the back of his head. Dagur was kneeling on his left, an arm around his shoulder. She could see Dagur's lips moving from the door.

"You can tell me-" Dagur moved his head so that his face was hidden behind Bragi’s arms. 

Bragi lifted his head from between his knees. "I can still see my dad." Tear marks tracked down his cheeks. Bragi tugged at his hair and flinched when Dagur placed a hand on his shoulder. "Make it fucking stop Dagur! Please."

"He's dead. He can't do anything to you Bragi,” Dagur reassured firmly. “He's not going to come after us." As if whoever they were talking about could hear them, Bragi's eyes went wide, he curled his fingernails against his cheeks and dragged them across his skin. Heather flinched as she watched Dagur grip his wrists to pull them away. 

"Stop that." Dagur chastised softly. Her older brother linked his fingers into Bragi's and pulled his hands away. It was like a dam broke, Bragi lurched forward and pressed his face into Dagur's night shirt. Bragi's crying was ugly, his throat sounded raw, like he had been screaming. 

Dagur gingerly let go of Bragi's hands to wrap them around Bragi's shaking shoulders instead. 

A sense of discomfort settled in the pit of her stomach. She was intruding on a private moment, curious or not, it was rude and disrespectful. It took her a while to try and drag her eyes away from them and when she finally did, the image of Bragi almost falling apart in her brother’s arms was etched into the forefront of her brain.

Could Dagur and Bragi be more human than they appeared to be? Could they be more than just murderous Berserkers? Was Dagur far from the cruel chief that slaughtered her family and village?

And was there more to them?

Confused, but still attempting to be firm in her beliefs, she stepped away from the ajar door and retraced her steps back up to the deck of the ship. The hunters patrolled the deck quietly while Windshear snoozed. That was her brother down there, her older brother who once, according to Bragi, loved and looked after her. A brother who vouched for her loyalty because she was his blood. Her brother who lit up like a Snoggletogg log when she was around.

Her _brother,_ who showed mercy and compassion towards someone in their time of need, and was the same person that had her parents killed? Heather paused and glanced back towards the stairs. 

Was she wrong? 

  
  


* * *

Everything was going fine. It actually was. Heather was slowly being integrated into the Berserker ranks. Their treaty with Viggo and Ryker Grimborn was still holding strong and the conditions hadn’t changed despite the slow progress in confronting the dragon riders.

Bragi sat up in his and Dagur’s shared bed, feeling the sea slowly swaying the boat back and forth beneath them. Dagur had rubbed his back and played with his hair until he had fallen asleep, something they used to do as teenagers.

He didn’t know what woke him up again, the wisps of whatever dream or nightmare slipped away the moment he opened his eyes and tried to think about it. The ship rocked soothingly, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was a relatively calm day at sea, Dagur snored from next to him, face smushed into the pillow he was hugging. His hair was mused and flattened over his face. Bragi smiled fondly at him, reaching out to stroke the side of Dagur’s face and push his hair out of his eyes.

Dagur’s eyelids fluttered but he only pressed his face further into the pillow and mumbled. Judging by the flickering, orange light coming from the crack underneath the door, it was still dark out. Bragi leaned back in bed and glanced over a Dagur, whose face was free of stress lines.

“I love you.” He whispered while he traced the scar across Dagur’s cheek. His chest felt warm and a bit tight, content rolling through him. In that moment, he felt almost stress free as Dagur’s nose twitched. Bragi grazed it softly, before Dagur shuffled closer towards Bragi’s body heat and snuggled up to his side.

It was still the middle of the night at the latest and very early morning at the earliest and everything was so quiet. Bragi let out a slow, quiet breath as he lay his hands flat on his stomach and settled back down onto the mattress to stare up at the ceiling.

Dagur shifted next to him, only to throw an arm over his chest before he went back to sleep. A soft smile slipped onto Bragi’s face. Dagur hadn’t slept this soundly in months. Heather was a positive addition for him, for the both of them, to have a proper family again. Slipping one of his hands out from under Dagur’s arm, he wrapped it gingerly around Dagur’s head and shoulders before closing his eyes and letting the sway of the ship coax him into drifting off.


	8. fever dream running right at you

Bragi isn’t what Astrid expected to see as she peeked over the rocks. The Berserker was standing next to a tall, bald man who looked like he was in charge. Bragi flicked his braid over his shoulder as he handed off something to the taller man. The redhead looked somber as he exchanged a few words before the taller man said something to him. 

Bragi laughed, and rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes before the taller man turned away to bark an order towards another Dragon Hunter that was taunting a dragon in a cage.

“Yes Ryker! Sorry Ryker!” The hunter yelled as he was shoved against the cage. So Ryker was the taller man’s name. Bragi turned towards the ocean as Ryker seemingly sniffed the air.

Ryker’s lips moved as he must have replied to something Bragi said. The older man pulled a scroll from his belt and handed it over to the Berserker. Bragi's frame turned towards the older man and they both reached out towards each other, clasping each other's forearms.

"Alright Stormfly." Astrid whispered to the Nadder, running her hand over the saddle. "What is he doing here?" She scanned the beach as the dragon hunter and Bragi broke from their moment and the hunter barked me orders towards his men

"Load them up! We have a quota to fill!" Ryker ordered. "And grab that Nadder!" 

Astrid startled, her hand reached for her saddle before she swung herself onto Stormfly’s back. "Get out of here Stormfly!" She squeezed her knees into Stormfly's sides to urge her upwards, painfully aware of the hunters watching her fly above them. 

“Archers, loose!” 

An arrow whizzed past her arm, and then her ear as the hunters began firing. She heard a shout of indignation below her as another arrow went narrowly past Stormfly's wing. She glanced down to see Bragi perched on top of one of the cages with a crossbow in his hands, tracking Stormfly patiently. 

"Stormfly, spine shot girl!" She ordered as she kept a firm eye on Bragi down below. The spines whistled as they flew toward the hunters, causing them to scatter. Stormfly jerked below her, almost throwing Astrid out of her saddle as the Nadder let out a pained growl. 

Down below Ryker grinned as the arrow he fired was true to his aim, hitting the Nadder's underbelly as it was exposed while throwing it's spine. Bragi thudded down into the sand next to him from the top of one of the cages, watching as both rider and dragon fell towards the water. They had time. They loaded up the already caged dragons and their empty cages quickly and efficiently before they scooped up Stormfly with little protest from the Deadly Nadder. 

“Move out!” Ryker ordered.

“What about the rider?” 

“Forget about her. We have work to do.” 

Stormfly barely flinched away from Bragi's hand when they brought her aboard. The Deadly Nadder sniffed his hand before she nuzzled it gently, pressing her nose into his palm. 

"Is a shame she likes you." Ryder popped up beside him as he patted Stormfly's snout softly. "She's a prize." 

Bragi glanced down at Stormfly before he exhaled softly, running his hand once more over her scales before he pulled his hand away. "Yeah. It is." Bragi rubbed his hand across his forearm while he watched them cage Stormfly.

They picked up Dagur and Heather on the way to the port to sell their recent catch. Heather swooped in on Windsheer as Dagur bounded up the gangplank to take him into his arms from another one of their ships laden with more caged dragons. 

"Bragi!" Dagur cheered, wrapped his arms around Bragi and lifted him from the ground for a second. Bragi wrapped his arms around Dagur, pressing his face into the crook of his shoulder before he pulled back and pressed a kiss to Dagur's cheek. "How did it go? You smell like you've been wrestling with dragons." Dagur wrinkled his nose before he fiddled with Bragi's leather armour, adjusting his shoulder pads.

"That's because he was wrestling with em." Ryker praised by their side. "He'd make a good hunter your boy, he has some natural talent." The older Viking patted Bragi on the back before he turned back to his ship to continue command. Bragi slipped his fingers into Dagur's as they turned to head below deck for a bath and a change of clothes 

"We caught one of the riders dragons." Bragi said with a small smile as he opened the door to their quarters. "It's Astrid's dragon, Stormfly. The Nadder."

"How'd you manage that?" Dagur said as he leaned against the table in their room. 

"She just came out of nowhere. No idea how she found us. but she won't be getting back to the riders anytime soon. She was alone." Bragi explained, bustling around the room for a spare change of clothes that didn't smell like dragon and sweat. 

"I moved our clothes to the bag under the bed." Dagur said after a moment of his rustling through their things. "Isn't she the dragon that they taught you to ride on?"

Bragi smiled weakly as he pulled out a change of clothes, before he nodded. "Yup. She barely fought when we brought her on board, she just, let me pet her before they brought her down to the cells below." Bragi began tucking his fingers under his armour or the clasps before he undid them and pulled them over his head. 

Dagur pushed himself off the table edge and slunk over towards him, sliding calloused fingers under his shirt to take it off as well. Bragi smiled at him with soft eyes before Dagur pulled away to the room adjoining theirs that had the bath and buckets in it. The hunter ships were way more equipped than theirs ever were. Dagur drew a bath for him while Bragi stripped out of the rest of his clothes, leaving them in a pile to do the laundry later. 

The water was warm when he sank down into the wooden bath, courtesy of the constantly heated water source in one of the rooms on the level above them. Dagur lowered himself to sit on the floor behind him, tangling his hands into Bragi's braid as the older Berserker tipped his head over the side of the bath. 

"Your hair is always messy." Dagur chastised as he deftly undid the braids and he ran his fingers through Bragi's hair. 

Bragi laughed, leaning his head all the way back to stare at Dagur's own hair pointedly. "And yours isn't?" He said with a raised eyebrow.

"That's different." Dagur retorted as he started sectioning off Bragi's hair. "When I still had my braid you remember how neat it was." 

He did. Dagur always kept his hair neatly, had ever since it grew long enough for he to braid back and keep out of his face. Whereas Bragi on the other hand changed his hair four times before he settled on the braids Dagur had put into his hair before he fought his father. 

"I'm glad you do my hair." Bragi muttered softly. "I can't do it like you do."

Dagur's fingers stilled in his hair before Dagur scritched at his scalp, causing him to melt against the side of the bath.

"It's cause you're too impatient." Dagur teased with a soft smile and kissed the crown of Bragi's head.

"Hmm." Bragi splashed some of the water from the bath over his head in Dagur's direction, chuckling when Dagur yelped. He settled back into the water and let Dagur rub the suds into his hair and scalp.

“And you’re okay with the hunters just capturing her?” Dagur asked after a quiet moment. Bragi hesitated, eyes trained on his knees, peaking out from the water’s surface. Dagur slowed his hands and leaned his head over the tub. “Bragi, are you okay?”

“I helped take her down and I should feel proud, we are one step closer to what we  _ need _ to do.” Bragi said instead. He was avoiding the question, both he and Dagur knew it. Learning how to ride on Stormfly was one thing, restoring the Berserkers to a position of reverence and importance was another. He wasn’t a dragon rider.

“Alright.” Dagur dropped the subject. He continued to massage the suds into Bragi’s hair. Once Bragi had washed his hair out, he turned around in the tub to kiss Dagur on his cheek.

“Thank you.” 

Dagur’s expression softened and he smiled with eyes half closed. “No problem pumpkin.” 

* * *

They were about a day and a half out from the hunter port they were planning to make their dragon sales at when the riders caught up to them. The fleet had fallen into a simple V formation and they were below deck when the riders made their play. 

Ryker gave them instructions to stay below deck.“The riders are down one fifth of their arsenal,” Dagur whispered. “This is our time to strike, with the Hunters help.”

“I agree, but we need to play it to our advantage. Let Ryker take point on the attack.” Bragi answered softly, leaning into Dagur’s side as they watched from out of the rider’s line of sight. 

Finally the attack ceased and Ryker’s experience brought down not only Astrid and Fishlegs, but the twins as well. When he heard that Ryker had captured Astrid, Fishlegs and the twins, he was both perplexed and excited. 

In fresh armour, Bragi slung an arm around Dagurs shoulders as they stepped down the stairs towards the cells. On one hand, capturing Astrid and Fishlegs meant they'd have more information, since Fishlegs would talk, but on the other hand, it was the twins, and Bragi didn't want Ryker to touch a hair on their heads. 

“Where are our dragons?! What did you do to them?” They had barely reached the corridor and already Astrid’s voice was carrying through the large room. 

“Oh if I were you I’d worry about yourself.” 

Heather walked ahead of them as planned, her braid flicked over her shoulder as she shadowed a Dragon Hunter.

"Heather?" Astrid exclaimed from inside a cell. 

“No way.” Tuffnut breathed in disbelief. 

"Heather run!" Bragi had to bite back a chuckle as Dagur ducked out from under his arm to make his own dramatic appearance. 

"Surprise!" Dagur exclaimed with a dramatized tone. Bragi rolled his eyes and strolled through the doorway to wrap his arm around Dagur's shoulders. “Did you miss me? Of course you did. Oh! Do you know my sister? Wait a minute, sure you do! You guys were little pals, and buddy buddies.” 

"Fancy seeing you here." Bragi drawled, his eyes flicking across Astrid and Fishlegs' faces before he stopped on the twins. 

“And of course you also thought you were pals with Bragi, but Bragi’s always been mine hasn’t he? No matter what you idiots thought.” Dagur continued on in his slightly dramatic ramble.

“Hey family is family.” 

“I can’t believe this Heather.” 

“I know it’s not Dragon’s Edge but it’ll have to do.” Heather said cooly. Dagur smiled proudly, his affection for his sister was plain as day on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Enjoy your new home Astrid.” The cell door slammed shut and locked with a simple turn of a key. “You’re gonna be here a while.” 

Instant internal conflict. Astrid whipped her head around to glare at Bragi. 

"You're allied with the Dragon Hunters!" Astrid growled. "You shot down Stormfly!"

Bragi felt just the slightest big guilty about it, but he shrugged and glanced over at Ryker. "Business is business." Bragi said. “And the Hunters pay handsomely for the use of our men.” 

“Stormfly trusted you. We trusted you!” Astrid protested. 

“And  _ I  _ made it clear what a terrible decision that was when you tried to attack my ships.” Dagur intervened, his lips curled back into a snarl. “Bragi was never one of yours, quit acting like he owes you.” Dagur hissed, narrowing his eyes at the Riders. Bragi grabbed Dagur by the bicep to calm him, stepping forward to put himself between him and the riders.

“I love him, how hard is it to realize that Dagur is my destiny and nothing will change that.” 

“Bragi, you can’t be serious.” Tuffnut said from behind Astrid. Bragi paused, feeling his mouth turned down in a frown as he met Tuffnut’s eyes. He had to steel himself, Tuffnut looked betrayed, eyes wide and shining. Ruffnut was glaring at him from next to her twin and he had to stop himself from apologizing.

“It’s how it has to be Tuff, you said it yourself, he’s mine and I need him.” Bragi muttered with a tone of finality in his voice, to mask the slightest bit of shame he felt, turning his gaze away from them. “You better decide on how much you love your dragons.” 

* * *

It was guilt that was twisting him up inside. Guilt and shame. The twins were family, by  _ tribe _ . One of the very reasons they were fighting was because of tribe, family, and now the twins were locked up and Barf and Belch were going to be skinned and have their hides sold at the Northern Markets.

Dagur caught the look on his face when they went back up the stairs to stand on deck for some fresh air. 

“Hey, you’re not still worried about Ryker running point on the attack are you?” Dagur asked softly as he paced across the deck. They would be heading back into a meeting soon with Ryker to discuss interrogation points.

“No, that’s not what I’m worried about.” Bragi sighed. “Just about you getting hurt.” That was mostly honest. Dagur’s eyes widened, before he let a small smile grace his lips. Dagur smacked Bragi’s shoulder affectionately then wrapped an arm around him and hugged him close to his side. 

“You know I’ll be find Bragi, you have my back, one hundred percent. You always have.” Dagur said, oozing confidence from his pores as he directed them both back towards the steps. The hunter waiting at the door allowed them into Ryker’s quarters, where the taller Viking was standing over what looked like a map and a few other documents that looked important.

“On the topic of interrogations, I was looking to see if the girl can prove that she can pull more than just her own weight.” Ryker said firmly, directing a sharp glance over towards Heather. Heather flinched, but she didn’t back down from his stare. “You and that blonde girl, you have a rivalry no? Exploit that.”

“Oh! Ooh! That’s Astrid, I’ll be with Heather to interrogate her!” Dagur chimed in enthusiastically. 

“For the smart boy, a simple hunter will do the trick, he seems strong willed, but lacks courage when his dragon is threatened.” Ryker said dismissively. “And as for the idiot twins? They’re more dragon bait than they are riders.” 

Bragi narrowed his eyes. The twins were smarter than Ryker could ever realize. If Ruffnut and Tuffnut were hurt, he wouldn’t forgive himself. 

He glanced over at Dagur, who was in a very animated conversation with one of the Dragon Hunters. If he let Dagur get hurt because he prioritised the twins over his own tribe, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

“Let me interrogate the twins.” Bragi spoke up at Ryker’s table, interrupting what Ryker was going to say next. The hunters and Berserker’s gathered around him eyed him speculatively. “It will be a piece of cake for me.” 

“If they don’t talk, use whatever force necessary.” Ryker ordered with his eyes narrowed. Dagur or the twins. He could protect the one person he’s been with for his entire life. Ryker gave him a look that made his temper flare.

Bragi gripped his fists tightly and slammed them onto the table, startling both hunters and berserkers surrounding them. “I know what I’m capable of! I’m Bragi the Berserk for a  _ reason! _ ” He snarled. 

“Very well.” Ryker conceded. 

* * *

It was a few hours after Astrid’s interrogation, they cleared out Ryker’s room of all the hunters, including Ryker himself. Bragi pushed a few loose strands out of his face as he steeled himself. He could hear the twins arguing with the guards as they were dragged towards the room. He slunk back into a dark corner as a hunter pushed the door open, and stayed quiet until the twins were strapped down in a pair of chairs, illuminated by the harsh light of the lanterns.

“What do you think they want from us?” Ruffnut whispered, just a smidgen above being too quiet.

“Whatever it is we won’t tell them. Besides, Astrid told them everything they needed they don’t need to talk to us.” Tuffnut huffed and glanced around the room, eyes skipping over right where Bragi was lurking in the dark.

“Well whatever it is they want, they left us here alone?”

“Maybe they wanted to make sure you weren’t lying to buy yourself some time to plot an escape.” Bragi spoke up from his corner. The twins startled. Tuffnut from where he was fidgeting with his ropes almost tipped over his chair.

“Bragi?” The twins gasped in unison.

“Maybe they thought that Astrid was smart and knew she’d lie. Or maybe they’d been around you long enough to know that none of you are just dumb teenagers to be underestimated.” Bragi said, and with each scenario, he took a step closer until he was standing with his arms clasped behind his back in front of Ruff and Tuff.

“If you knew it was a lie, why didn’t you tell Ryker when Dagur and Heather interrogated Astrid?” Ruffnut growled from her seat. Bragi rolled his eyes, before he squatted so that he was eye level with Tuffnut.

“Because there’s more to it. Captain Gustav? Really? A lie like that in front of Heather, Dagur and me of all people?” Bragi exclaimed in concern. “I could have sworn Astrid was smarter than that.” 

“Yeah okay, Gustav’s not even on the edge.” Ruffnut said dejectedly.

“But the Dragon Eye is?” Bragi raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Tuffnut sighed.

“You two are being surprisingly cooperative.” Bragi glanced around the room before he crouched in front of the twins in their chairs. “Ryker’s expecting me to use force on you guys.” 

“Yeah well Ryker looks like an asshole.” Tuffnut huffed, sending a dirty look towards the doors.

“Did he hurt you when you were caught? Are you both okay?” Bragi asked with genuine concern. The look of disbelief on both their faces had Bragi lowering his head, unable to meet their eyes. “Listen… I know you’re both mad at me, and you have every right to be.” Bragi sighed. “But Dagur is my everything, my tribe is my everything and the world, this Archipelago and whatever’s outside it, it doesn’t revolve around you Dragon Riders, it doesn’t just revolve around Dagur trying to kill you.” 

“There are battles and there are wars, and people need plans and allies to fight so that they aren’t going to be wiped out. The Berserker tribe thrived until Hiccup brought it down onto it’s knees. We were humiliated and lost, we weren’t the dignified warriors we once were. By aligning with the Dragon Hunters, under Dagur’s strengthened leadership and my support, we’re going to thrive again.”

“Dagur and I can’t let anything happen to our tribe, not now, not as long as we are alive. I don’t care if you hate me for it and I don’t care if you don’t understand, but I will not let Dagur lose, not when we’re so close. I may not want you to succeed, I may want Dagur to complete his goals. I may need for us to be enemies so long as my people are safe, but Odin be damned despite what the two of you think, you’re my people too, in heart and in spirit so-” Bragi cut himself off as his voice wobbled. The twins stared at him, wide eyed in confusion as he stood up from where he crouched. 

“I won’t betray Dagur outright, which means I’m so fucking sorry I have to do this.” The punch he landed onto Tuffnut’s jaw cracked so loudly that Ruffnut barely moved. Tuffnut tipped in his chair, landing on his side as he groaned. 

“I’m going to kill you!” Ruffnut screamed from her chair, tugging at her ropes with what could have only been the baby flames of a Berserker Rage. 

Bragi’s next punch was to Ruffnut’s stomach. It had her gasping, trying to catch her breath so she could yell. He clenched his eyes shut, as he tried his best to control his breathing. 

“Sacrifices are made for the strength of a Viking.” Bragi muttered as he stepped back from the twins, both of them groaning in pain. “I had to make it look real… I- I love the both of you, you need to know that.” 

He leaned down and whispered into Ruffnut’s ear as she curled over to protect her stomach, before he stared at both of them, guilt twisting tightly in his chest.

Bragi flanked the guards that brought the twins back to their cell, ignoring the glares that Astrid and Fishlegs sent his way when they realized that he had actually hurt the twins. His stomach churned, empty from missing breakfast while he was on the hunt, and uncomfortable with the way Tuffnut was looking at him, like Tuffnut believed every word he was saying, down to his admission. 

“You’re a monster.” Astrid hissed towards him as he turned away from the cell.

“No.” Tuffnut said rigidly, still holding a hand to his jaw. “He’s loyal.” Bragi gritted his teeth together, grinding them as he clenched his fists at his sides. Tuffnut was just barely in his peripheral vision but Bragi could see the look on his face. It was the same look that Tuff had given him one night after wrestling in the boar pit.

A look that meant family.

* * *

They only had about an hours break before they convened to discuss the information they retrieved from each rider.

“I saw the bruise on the blonde boy’s jaw, you didn’t disappoint.” Ryker said as he brushed past Bragi to get to his desk. “Did what he say match up with the girl’s version.” 

“There were some discrepancies that didn’t match up to my time on Dragon’s Edge, but it’s been a few months and last I was aware, there was a second team of riders and they were indeed lead by Gustav.” Bragi reported. “It’s very likely they’ve increased their defences and numbers however I have confirmation that the Dragon Eye is indeed on the Edge.” 

“Fair. We’ll have to employ another tactic to get them to talk.” Ryker waved his hand dismissively and glanced down at the map in front of him. “We make port in another twenty hours. Viggo will not be pleased if we arrived without the Dragon Eye while having the Riders in our grasp.” 

“Of course. May I suggest using their love for their dragon’s against them?” Heather piped up from the corner of the room. Dagur and Bragi both smiled fondly, a small sense of pride enveloping them both. Heather was shaping up to be a strong and smart Berserker.

“Smart.” Ryker nodded towards a few hunters, who moved wordlessly and left the room. “They will prepare the dragons, Chief Dagur, Bragi, Heather, I would like the three of you to accompany me as we set this plan in motion.” 

* * *

  
  


“I am Ryker, this is my ship. You are my prisoners, and your dragons are now my dragons.” Ryker loomed over them. He was flanked by the Berserkers and one of his own men.

“And how they get treated is entirely up to you.” Dagur chimed in enthusiastically while spreading his arms wide. Bragi and the hunter grabbed onto Tuffnut and Fishleg’s arms and shoved them forward, down the corridor from the cells towards where the dragons were being kept. 

“Meatlug!’ Fishlegs pulled himself free from the hunters holding his arms and rushed forward to the bars of Meatlug’s cell. 

“This Gronkle is being very helpful.” Ryker said calmly while he eyed Fishlegs for a reaction.

“Her name is Meatlug!” Fishlegs protested.

“I don’t care! All I care is that  _ it  _ makes me metal all day and all night.” At Ryker’s glare, Fishleg’s expression went from defiance to his usual concerned frown. Bragi crossed an arm over his chest and pushed Fishlegs forward.

The next cell they visited had Stormfly in it. Hunters were agitating her for her spines, advancing on her while she was backed into a corner. 

“Hmm, perfect, razor sharp tips for our spears and balistae.” Ryker described with a side eye to Astrid. Sure enough, Astrid pulled free of her guard to protest, getting right into Ryker’s face.

“You can’t do that to her!” Astrid yelled.

“Oh I can, and I will.” Ryker grinned before motioning to keep moving.

“Ugh Poor barf and belch what torture are they enduring.” Tuffnut worried as he walked forward, before he covered his face with his hands. “I can’t look because my hands are over my eyes.” He muttered despite peeking through his fingers as he followed along with the group.

“ Well this is more like it.” Tuffnut blurted out as they approached the Zippleback cell. Barf and Belch were being pampered. Two baskets of fresh fish were placed by their heads as two hunters were rubbing grease into their scales. “Someone recognizes quality.”

“He likes the fish.” One of the hunters grunted. Bragi watched as Ruffnut sidled over to the Hunter that was closest to the cell bars. 

“Hey rub me down with some of that grease I’m feeling dry.” Before the hunter could respond Astrid yanked her away from the bars and back towards the group.”

“This hide will fetch top prices in the northern markets.” Ryker said absently, eyeing Barf and Belch with dollar signs in his eyes.

“Sure it’s soft and supple, and the colour, oh the colour-” Tuffnut stopped in his tracks next to Ryker. “Wait what?”

“Ooh zippleback boots.” Dagur giggled as he stepped past Tuffnut. “I always wanted a pair ever since we landed on Berk to sign that treaty.” Tuffnut paled, glancing over at Barf and Belch worriedly.

“This is what faces all of your dragons,” Ryker paused. “Of course they could get better treatment…”

“Don’t just leave me hanging!” Ruffnut suddenly raised her voice, lunging forward to grab Ryker’s attention. “How!” 

“Start giving me some real answers, tell me what you know about the dragon eye, exactly how many riders guard your base?!” Ryker snapped towards her. Ruffnut reared backwards showing real fear for a moment before she steeled herself and shook her head. “Very well, keep fattening this one up. More to sell.” 

Ryker rolled his eyes and turned to walk away, waving a dismissive hand towards the Hunter next to Ruffnut to take the Riders back to their cells.

“Please! Please don’t hurt our dragon! I’ll do anything.” Ruffnut lunged forward and gripped tightly onto the Hunter in front of her, her voice pleading as she slowly sunk to the ground with tears in her eyes. 

“Ruff, stop! Thorstons don’t beg!” Tuffnut called out to his sister from behind Astrid as Ruffnut continued to cry at the Hunter’s feet. “Except for food, or money, or housing, or any other thing that we need. You know what? This isn’t a good argument.”

“You want to save your dragon? Then give me some information!” Ryker yelled, his patience wearing thin. 

“No! Never!” Ruffnut scrambled to her feet and dusted herself off frantically before she calmed down. “Sorry I lost my head there for a second.” 

“Interesting.” Ryker said cruelly. “Something you and your dragon may soon have in common.” Ryker turned away with a huff. “Get them out of my sight!” He ordered without looking at them as he left them in front of their dragons.

“He really does have anger issues doesn’t he?” Heather commented from Bragi and Dagur’s left.

“And we don’t?” Bragi chuckled, raising an eyebrow. 

* * *

The alarm that rang startled Bragi from where he was sitting on the railing of the quarterdeck. From next to him, Dagur’s posture straightened and he let out an excited noise. “Ooooh!” Dagur said excitedly before he bounded off to find Ryker. Bragi darted his eyes around the deck, it was still devoid of the Riders and the hunters were scrambling into position to await orders from Ryker.

The twins would be heading for Barf and Belch. The realization struck him and he sprinted across the deck towards the stairs to the cells. As he took the steps two at a time he could hear both Ruffnut and Tuffnut arguing with Barf and Belch. 

“Ruff, Tuff.” Bragi skid across the wood into Barf and Belch’s cell. “I don’t wanna do this.” The twins were looking awkward, like sheep startled by dragons as they had their arms around Barf and Belch’s necks. 

“Well clearly you fucking don’t.” Ruffnut protested as she crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “You told me where the key was, even if you did try to break my ribs and Tuff’s jaw.” Tuffnut shrugged from next to her with his arms still around his dragon’s neck.

“I don’t want you both caught up in this. The hunters will hurt you, trust me, they’re not people that you have to go up against!” Bragi argued. “They’re willing to kill you and your dragons!”

“And you aren’t?” Ruffnut said incredulously. 

“I'd rather not kill the two of you!” Bragi took a deep breath. “I couldn’t care less about Snotlout or Astrid, Fishlegs could be spared he’s too nice. But Hiccup? Hiccup locked Dagur up on Outcast Island for  _ three years _ ! Berk took away my best friend and the love of my life!”

“Dagur brought that upon himself!” 

“He was doing what a Viking does! We raid, we fight! We kill dragons and sometimes we kill each other! How can he be punished for that?” Bragi yelled. Tuffnut and Ruffnut glanced at each other, communicating in their own way. Above them, Bragi could hear the sound of Hunters running on deck, reacting to Ryker’s muffled orders. He was running out of time. He rushed RUffnut first, catching her off guard before he knocked her off of her feet. She yelped and hit the ground. 

Tuffnut reacted instantly, lunging towards Bragi and causing the both of them to stumble to the other side of the cell. Bragi wrestled Tuffnut, gripping his arm and wrenching it back causing him to yelp and weaken his grip on Bragi’s shoulder. Bragi forced him into a headlock as the first few hunters made their way down the steps. 

Ruffnut was getting to her feet in front of him. He made to squeeze Tuffnut’s throat, hesitating when he looked down at the blonde that was staring up at him. 

Bragi’s ears caught the sound of yelling and a few Berserkers he recognized. Just as he managed to spot the first hunter, he felt a sharp pain from his nose and he stumbled back, blood dripping from his face to the floor, letting Tuffnut go. He clutched at his face, as the group of hunters swarmed the twins. The blood was flowing freely and he backed out of the cell as the hunters grabbed Ruffnut and Tuffnut. 

Bragi tilted his head back slightly, hands and bracers streaked with blood as he followed the Hunters and twins up towards the deck.

* * *

The Rider’s escape planned failed, and it was a good thing too. Ryker nodded his approval at Bragi before he turned away after Heather suggest they be put to work on deck rather than left together to plot another escape. Bragi held his bloodied and dislocated nose to stop the bleeding as he and Dagur walked over to the side of the ship, away from the Hunters and Heather.

Dagur pushed Bragi’s hand away from his face, communicating with his eyebrows before he grabbed the bridge of Bragi’s nose firmly.

“You hesitated.” Daugr said as he pushed Bragi’s nose back into place. The crunch from the cartilage had them both pause, before Bragi huffed and shook his head and sneezed, before he wiped at the drying blood beneath his nostrils. 

“I didn’t hesitate.” Bragi said firmly, glancing down at the blood on the back of his hand, failing to meet Dagur’s eyes.

“There’s no way that boy-nut had you by surprise. Bragi what happened while you were down there?” Dagur’s tone was concerned, he reached a hand out towards Bragi and grabbed his hand to thumb at the blood on the back of his hand. Once the blood was wiped off his hand, Dagur reached out to grab Bragi by the chin to inspect his face and nose. “Why’d you hesitate?”

“Because he’s one of us! Okay? The twins are Berserkers Dagur, they’re family and I had Tuffnut in a chokehold and I couldn’t bring myself to actually choke him out and he elbowed me in the nose.” Bragi whisper yelled before he pulled himself out of Dagur’s grip and turned away to pace, before he stared down at where Tuffnut was half-heartedly sweeping the deck below them.

“Sverri would’ve looked like him, probably would’ve been like him too.” Bragi finally said softly. Dagur made a soft noise before he came to stand next to him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“He’s not Sverri, Bragi.” 

“I know that.” Bragi snapped. “I fucking know… okay? I know… but he’s family anyway, they both are.” 

“They are Dragon Rider’s Bragi, they are never going to change. We need to put ourselves first. Our  _ tribe _ first.” Dagur snapped. “If you think those twins would defect from Berk to join us after living their whole lives there, you’d be dead wrong.” 

“I know that Dagur! You are always going to be my first choice.” Bragi’s tone was soft. “I have always chosen you first.” Dagur nodded and leaned in, slowly pressing a kiss to Bragi’s lips, avoiding his sore nose.

“You’re going to have a pretty awesome bruise while that heals.” Dagur commented as he pulled away. Bragi searched his eyes, seeing nothing but calm in them, all of Dagur’s frustration and worry had dissipated.

“Yeah.” Bragi smiled fondly, flinching as he scrunched up his nose on accident and it began to throb.

“You’re covered in your blood.” Dagur pointed out “And your hand wraps are messed up.”

“Yeah I know Dagur.” Bragi leaned over and rested his head on Dagur’s shoulder as he watched over the Riders on deck. “I have a clean pair in our room, I’ll change them later.” 

“Okay.” Dagur let the subject drop and wrapped a firm arm around Bragi’s shoulders, almost like he was trying to comfort Bragi without his words.


End file.
